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II  I  1       •  '• 

3  3333  08115  6768 



C.   F.   CLAY,   MANAGER 

HonUoti:  FETTER  LANE,  E.G. 

«F&int>urgf) :    100  PRINCES  STREET 




gork:  G.   P.   PUTNAM'S  SON'S 
Combaj,  ffalmtta  anB  fflafcras:   MACMILLAN  AND  CO.,   LTD. 
CTotonto:  J.   M.   DENT  AND  SONS,   LTD. 

All  rights  reserved 





H.   T.    FRANCIS,    M.A., 



E.   J.    THOMAS,    M.A., 


•  '       ,'   ,         '   ».,    O 

II  l      '     '     ,        .  11 


,  I  t 

D    ,  J         JO 

Cambridge : 

at  the  University  Press 

PU,         JBRARY 

T1LDEN   r  i  DNS. 

i      »  »  « 



ILLUSTRATIONS     ....  xv 




A  young  man  picks  up  a  dead  mouse  which  he  sells,  and  works  up  his 
capital  till  he  becomes  rich. 


A  king  refuses  to  recognise  his  son  by  a  chance  amour;  the  mother 
throws  the  child  into  the  air,  praying  that,  if  he  be  not  the  king's  son,  he 
may  be  killed  by  his  fall.  The  child  rests  in  mid-air,  and  the  king  recognises 
him  as  his  son. 


A  king,  finding  a  grey  hair  in  his  head,  renounces  his  throne  to  prepare 
as  a  hermit  for  death.  He  is  re-born  as  a  king  and  again  becomes  a  hermit. 

THE   COLD   HALF   OF   THE   MONTH   (MALUTA-JATAKA,    17)       .  .  20 

A  tiger  and  a  lion  dispute  whether  it  is  the  dark  or  the  light  half  of  the 
month  which  is  cold. 

THE    FEAST   FOR   THE   DEAD   (MATAKABHATTA-JATAKA,    18)  .  .  20 

A  goat,  which  was  to  be  sacrificed  by  a  brahmin,  shews  signs  of  great  joy 
and  of  great  sorrow.  It  explains  the  reason  for  each  emotion. 

THE   MONKEYS   AND   THE    OCRS   (NALAPANl-JATAKA,    20)      .  .  23 

Thirsty  monkeys  come  to:'sV  pool"  haunted  by  an  "ogre.  Their  leader 
miraculously  blows  knots  out  of  canes,  with  which  they  safely  slake  their 
thirst.  , ,  - .  , .  . 


Carriage-straps  having  been  jn&.ved  by  palace  dogs,  a  king  orders  all 
other  dogs  to  be  killed.  The  leader  of  a  pack  01  dogs  reveals  the  truth  by 
causing  an  emetic  to  be  applied  to  the  royal  dogs. 

THE   DISCONTENTED   OX   (MUNIKA-JATAKA,    30)     ....  29 

A  young  ox,  seeing  a  lazy  pig  being  fattened,  is  discontented  with  his 
hard  fare.  Another  ox  explains  that  the  pig  is  being  fattened  to  be  eaten, 
and  the  discontented  ox  accepts  his  position. 

1  In  Pali  c  is  pronounced  as  ch  in  church  ;  kh,  th,  etc.  as  in  inkhorn,  pothook  ;  t,  th, 
d,  dh,  n  are  pronounced  with  the  tip  of  the  tongue  further  back  in  the  mouth  than  t,  etc. ; 
a  as  u  in  but ;  other  vowels  as  in  Italian. 



THE  PEACOCK'S  WOOING  (NACCA-JATAKA,  32)     ....        30 

The  daughter  of  the  Golden  Mallard,  king  of  birds,  chooses  the  peacock 
for  her  husband.  In  dancing  for  joy  the  peacock  exposes  himself  and  is 


Quails  caught  in  a  net  rise  up  in  a  body  with  the  net  and  escape  several 
times.  After  a  time  they  quarrel  and  are  caught. 

THE   OLDEST   OF   THE   ANIMALS   (TITTIRA-JATAKA,   37)  .  .  34 

A  partridge,  a  monkey,  and  an  elephant  decide  to  obey  the  eldest  of 
them.  To  prove  seniority  each  gives  his  earliest  recollection. 


A  crane,  pretending  that  he  was  taking  them  to  a  big  lake,  devours  all 
the  fish  of  a  pond.  A  wise  crab  nips  the  bird's  head  off. 

THE   HAUGHTY   SLAVE    (NANDA-JATAKA,   39)  ....  39 

A  slave  is  made  to  tell  where  his  master's  father  had  buried  his  hoard. 

THE   PIGEON   AND   THE   CROW   (KAPOTA-JATAKA,   42)     ...  41 

A  pigeon  lives  in  a  kitchen  with  a  greedy  crow,  which  attacks  the 
victuals.  It  is  tortured  to  death  by  the  cook,  and  the  pigeon  flies  away. 

THE   FOOLISH   FRIEND   (MAKASA-JATAKA,   44)         ....  44 

A  mosquito  settles  on  a  man's  head.  To  kill  it  his  foolish  son  strikes  the 
man's  head  with  an  axe  and  kills  him. 


Monkeys  employed  to  water  a  pleasaunce  pull  up  the  trees  to  judge 
by  the  size  of  the  roots  how  much  water  to  give.  The  trees  die. 

THE   ROBBERS   AND   THE   TREASURE   (VEDABBHA-JATAKA,   48)         .  47 

Captured  by  robbers  a  brahmin  makes  treasure  rain  from  the  sky  ;  a 
second  band  kills  him  'because-  .hv  /caynpt.1  repeat;  the  miracle.  Mutual 
slaughter  leaves  only  two  jrpljbjiss  with  th&tr&aatihg,'  '.One  poisons  the  other's 

food  and  is  himself  slain  by  his  fe*llow. 


GREAT   KING   GOODNESS   (MA.aASL^V^-USTAKA,    51)      .  .  .  52 

A  good  king  meets  evil  with  good^  RefusJRg  to  fight  he  is  captured  and 
buried  alive  in  a  charnel-grov'eV  'ti5e;^kj)es^he  jackals,  acts  as  umpire  for 
ogres,  and  regains  his  kingdom.  •*  •  •  "  •  •  • 

PRINCE   FIVE-WEAPONS  (PANCAVUDHA-JATAKA,   55)      .  .  .  59 

Prince  Five-weapons  fights  with  the  ogre  Hairy-grip,  and  though 
defeated  subdues  him  through  fearlessness. 

THE  BRAHMIN'S  SPELL  (ANDABHUTA-JATAKA,  62)       ...        63 

A  girl  is  bred  up  among  women  only,  without  ev  3r  seeing  any  man  but 
her  husband.  Her  innocence  gives  him  luck  in  gaming.  The  story  of  her 
intrigue  with  a  lover  and  of  her  trick  at  the  ordeal  to  test  her  innocence. 



THE  VALUE  OF  A  BROTHER  ( UCCHANGA-JATAKA,  67)     .     .     70 

A  woman's  husband,  son,  and  brother  are  condemned  to  death.  She 
chooses  and  saves  her  brother,  and  gives  her  reason. 

THE   GRATEFUL   ANIMALS   (SACCAMKIRA-JATAKA,    73)   .  .  .  72 

The  ingratitude  of  a  prince,  and  the  gratitude  of  a  snake,  rat,  and  parrot. 

THE   GREAT    DREAMS   (MAHASUPINA-JATAKA,    77)  ...  78 

A  king  dreams  sixteen  dreams,  and  the  brahmins  say  he  must  offer 
sacrifices  to  avert  the  evil.  His  queen  advises  him  to  consult  Buddha  who 
shews  that  the  evil  will  not  be  in  the  king's  time. 

THE    CONVERTED   MISER  (iLLISA-JATAKA,    78)        ....  92 

A  miser  is  cured  by  his  father  reappearing  on  earth  and  distributing  the 
son's  wealth  in  the  exact  semblance  of  the  son. 


A  dwarf  makes  an  alliance  with  a  huge  weaver,  who  gets  the  credit  of  the 
dwarf's  achievements,  until  his  cowardice  is  discovered. 

THE   STOLEN   JEWELS   (MAHASARA-JATAKA,    92)     .  .  .  .103 

A  queen's  jewels  are  stolen,  and  several  innocent  persons  confess  to  the 
theft.  Monkeys  are  proved  to  be  the  real  culprits,  and  the  jewels  are 

THE   TOO-CLEVER   MERCHANT   (KUTAVANIJA-JATAKA,    98)      .  .         107 

A  trader  tries  to  cheat  his  partner,  and  puts  his  father  in  a  hollow  tree 
to  speak  as  the  tree  sprite  and  decide  the  dispute.  The  father  is  burnt  out 
and  exposed. 

THE   LOQUACIOUS  BRAHMIN   (SALITTAKA-JATAKA,    107)          .  .         109 

A  skilful  markman  reduces  a  talkative  brahmin  to  silence  by  flicking 
pellets  of  goat's  dung  down  the  tatter's  throat. 

THE   THREE   FISHES   (MITACINTI-JATAKA,    114)      .  .  .  .         HI 

Of  three  fishes  two  through  folly  are  caught  in  a  net ;  the  third  and  wiser 
fish  rescues  them. 

THE   LUCKY   SNEEZE   (ASILAKKHAXA-JATAKA,    126)       .  .  .         112 

Effects  of  two  sneezes.  One  lost  a  sword-tester  his  nose,  whilst  the  other 
won  a  princess  for  her  lover. 

THE    HYPOCRITICAL   JACKAL   (BILARA-JATAKA,    128)      .  .  .115 

A  jackal,  under  guise  of  saintliness,  eats  the  rats  of  a  troop  with  which  he 
consorts.  His  treachery  is  discovered  and  avenged. 

THE   GOLDEN   GOOSE   (SUVANNAHAMSA-JATAKA,    136)   .  .  .         117 

The  father  of  a  family  dies,  and  is  re-born  as  a  bird  with  golden  plumage. 
Finding  his  family  poor  he  goes  and  gives  them  a  feather  at  a  time  to  sell. 
The  widow  in  greed  plucks  all  the  feathers  out,  and  they  grow  again  as  plain 
white  ones. 



THE   GRATEFUL   MOUSE   (BABBU-JATAKA,    137)      .  .  .  .         118 

A  mouse  caught  by  successive  cats  buys  them  off  by  daily  rations  of 
meat.    Its  protector  gives  it  a  crystal,  within  which  it  can  defy  the  cats. 

THE  TREACHEROUS  CHAMELEON  (GODHA-JATAKA,  141)    .     .    121 

A  chameleon  betrays  a  tribe  of  lizards  to  a  hunter,  who  burns  them  out 
of  their  dwelling. 

THE   CUNNING   JACKAL   (SIGALA-JATAKA,    142)      ...  123 

In  order  to  catch  a  jackal  a  man  pretends  to  be  dead.  The  jackal  tugs 
at  the  man's  stick  and  finds  his  grip  tighten. 

THE   FOOLHARDY  JACKAL   (VIROCANA-JATAKA,    143)     .  .  .         124 

A  jackal,  following  a  lion  in  the  chase,  imagines  that  he  can  kill  a  quarry 
as  well  as  the  lion.  He  tries  to  kill  an  elephant,  and  is  crushed  to  death. 

THE   FOOLISH   CROWS   (KAKA-JATAKA,    146)  .  .  .  .126 

A  hen  crow  having  been  drowned  in  the  sea,  other  crows  try  to  bale  out 
the  sea  with  their  beaks. 

THE   GREEDY   JACKAL   CAUGHT   (SIGALA-JATAKA,    148)  .  .         128 

A  jackal  eats  his  way  into  a  dead  elephant's  carcass  and  cannot  get  out. 

THE   RASH   MAGICIAN   (SANJIVA-JATAKA,    150)       .  .  .  .129 

A  youth,  who  has  learnt  the  charm  for  restoring  the  dead  to  life,  tries  it 
on  a  tiger  with  fatal  results  to  himself. 

THE   TWO   GOOD   KINGS   (RAJOVADA-JATAKA,    151)          .  .  .         131 

Two  kings,  both  wise  and  good,  meet  in  a  narrow  way,  and  their  drivers 
dispute  as  to  who  is  to  give  place.  Each  sings  his  master's  praises,  one  is 
good  to  the  good,  and  bad  to  the  bad ;  the  other  repays  evil  with  good. 
The  first  acknowledges  his  superior,  and  gives  place. 

THE   GRATEFUL   ELEPHANT  (ALINACITTA-JATAKA,    156)          .  .         134 

Carpenters  extract  a  thorn  from  the  foot  of  an  elephant,  and  he  and  his 
young  one  serve  them  out  of  gratitude.  The  young  one  is  sold  to  the  king, 
and  on  the  king's  death  routs  a  hostile  host  and  saves  the  kingdom. 

THE   PET   ELEPHANT   (iNDASAMANAGOTTA-JATAKA,    161)         .  .         140 

A  man  keeps  a  pet  elephant,  which  turns  against  him  and  tramples  him 
to  death. 

THE   MONGOOSE   AND   THE   SNAKE   (NAKULA-JATAKA,    165)   .  141 

A  mongoose  and  snake  are  made  friends,  but  still  distrust  each  other, 
until  the  Bodhisatta  reconciles  them. 

THE   JACKAL   BETRAYED   BY    HIS    HOWL   (DADDARA-JATAKA,   172)         143 
A  jackal  brought  up  among  lions  is  betrayed  by  his  tongue. 

THE   PENNY-WISE   MONKEY   (KALAYAMUTTHI-JATAKA,    176)  .         144 

A  monkey  throws  away  a  handful  of  peas  to  find  one. 



THE    INCOMPARABLE   ARCHER   (ASADISA-JATAKA,    181)  .  .         14-5 

A  prince  is  slandered  and  leaves  the  country.  He  performs  feats  of 
archery,  then  returns,  and  saves  the  king. 

THE   MAGIC   TREASURES    (DADHIVAHANA-JATAKA,    186)  .  .         149 

A  man  becomes  king  through  a  magic  razor-axe,  milk-bowl,  and  drum. 
Another  king  spoils  the  flavour  of  his  mangoes. 

THE   ASS    IN   THE   LION'S   SKIN   (slHACAMMA-JATAKA,    189)  .  .         155 

The  ass  in  the  lion's  skin. 

THE   PRIEST   IN   HORSE-TRAPPINGS   (RUHAKA-JATAKA,    191).  .         156 

A  wicked  wife  fools  her  husband,  and  sends  him  prancing  down  the 
street  in  horse-trappings. 

INGRATITUDE   PUNISHED  (CULLAPADUMA-JATAKA,    193)         .  .         158 

A  wicked  wife  tries  to  murder  her  husband,  and  finally  with  her  paramour 
is  brought  for  trial  before  her  husband,  then  become  king. 

THE   GOBLIN   CITY   (VALAHASSA-JATAKA,    196)       ....         164 

Shipwrecked  mariners  escape  from  a  city  of  goblins  by  aid  of  a  flying 

THE   TELL-TALE   PARROT   (RADHA-JATAKA,    198)  .  .  .  .167 

A  brahmin  leaves  two  parrots  to  watch  his  wife  in  his  absence.  She  kills 
one  of  them  which  rashly  reproves  her.  The  other  prudently  keeps  silent, 
and  informs  the  brahmin  on  his  return. 

THE   CHOICE   OF   A   HUSBAND   (SADHUSILA-JATAKA,    200)      .  .         168 

How  a  father  chose  a  husband  for  his  four  daughters. 

THE   FOOLHARDY   CROW  (VIRAKA-JATAKA,   204)  .  .  .  .169 

A  crow  tries  to  catch  fish  for  himself,  and  is  drowned. 


JATAKA,   206) 171 

A  woodpecker  and  a  tortoise  rescue  their  friend  the  antelope  from  a  trap. 


A  crocodile  wants  the  heart  of  a  monkey,  who  escapes  by  pretending  that 
it  is  hanging  on  a  fig-tree. 


212) 176 

A  husband  finds  out  his  wife's  intrigue  by  the  state  of  the  rice. 

THE   TORTOISE   AND   THE   GEESE    (KACCHAPA-JATAKA,    215)  .         178 

A  tortoise  is  conveyed  by  geese  through  the  air,  biting  with  his  teeth 
upon  a  stick.  He  answers  a  taunt  and  falls. 



THE   STOLEN   PLOUGHSHARES   (KUTAVANIJA-JATAKA,    218)    .  .         180 

A  man  deposits  ploughshares  with  a  friend,  who  pretends  that  they  have 
been  eaten  by  rats.     By  a  clever  device  he  is  exposed. 

THE   HERO'S   TASKS   (DHAMMADDHAJA-JATAKA,    220)      .  .  .183 

Impossible  tasks  are  set  to  a  good  man,  who  does  them  all  with  Sakka's 


A  porter  mourns  at  the  death  of  his  tyrannical  master,  lest  he  should 
prove  too  much  for  the  King  of  Death  and  be  sent  back. 

THE  JACKAL'S  SPELL  (SABBADATHA-JATAKA,  241)       .        .        .193 

A  jackal  learns  the  spell  "  Of  subduing  the  world,"  and  collects  an  army  of 
wild  beasts,  but  is  discomfited. 

THE   JUDAS-TREE  (KIMSUKOPAMA-JATAKA,   248)  .  .  .  .196 

Four  lads  see  a  tree,  and  quarrel  because  each  describes  it  differently. 


257) 198 

A  prince  is  made  king  after  being  tested  in  giving  wise  judgments. 
Story  of  his  four  judgments  and  solution  of  ten  problems. 

THE   CRAB   AND   THE   ELEPHANT   (KAKKATA-JATAKA,   267)    .  .         211 

An  elephant  goes  to  catch  a  great  crab  and  succeeds  with  the  help  of  his 

THE   OWL   AS    KING   (ULUKA-JATAKA,   270)  ....         213 

The  owl  is  proposed  as  king  of  birds,  but  because  of  his  sour  looks  is  not 

THE  ELEPHANT-TRAINER'S  LUCK  (SIRI-JATAKA,  284)  .        .        .      215 

How  luck  came  of  eating  the  flesh  of  certain  birds. 

THE   WISHING-CUP   (BHADRAGHATA-JATAKA,   291)  .  .  .         218 

A  spendthrift  has  a  wishing-cup  given  to  him.    He  breaks  it  and  becomes 
poor  once  more. 

THE  JACKAL   AND   THE   CROW   (JAMBUKHADAKA-JATAKA,    294)      .         219 
A  jackal  flatters  a  crow  and  gets  fruit. 

THE   WOLF'S   SABBATH   (VAKA-JATAKA,    300)  ....         220 

A  wolf  being  without  food  decides  to  keep  sabbath,  but  on  seeing  a  goat 
prefers  to  keep  sabbath  another  day. 

THE   KING   AND   THE   FRUIT-GIRL   (SUJATA-JATAKA,    306)      .  .         221 

A  king  marries  a  poor  jujube-seller,  who  becomes  too  proud  to  recognise 
the  fruit,  and  nearly  loses  her  position. 



THE   WOODPECKER   AND   THE   LION   (JAVASAKUNA-JATAKA,   308)  .         223 

A  woodpecker  extracts  a  bone  from  the  throat  of  a  lion,  who  afterwards 
refuses  the  bird  a  boon. 

THE  HARE'S  SELF-SACRIFICE  (SASA-JATAKA,  316)       .        .        .      225 

A  hare  offers  its  own  flesh  to  Sakka  to  be  eaten,  and  is  rewarded  by 
having  its  shape  impressed  on  the  moon. 

UNASKED-FOR   ADVICE   (KUTIDUSAKA-JATAKA,   321)      .  .  .         229 

A  bird  gives  unasked-for  advice  to  a  monkey,  who  destroys  its  nest. 

THE   FLIGHT   OF   THE   BEASTS   (DADDABHA-JATAKA,   322)       .  .         230 

The  timid  hai'e  and  the  flight  of  the  beasts. 


A  foolish  mendicant  meets  his  death  by  mistaking  the  butting  of  a  ram 
for  a  respectful  salutation. 


328) 234 

A  holy  man  finds  a  wife  by  means  of  a  golden  image,  and  on  her  death  he 
neither  fasts  nor  weeps. 

THE   TESTING   OF   VIRTUE   (SILAVIMAMSA-JATAKA,   330)          .  .         238 

A  man  tests  the  power  of  virtue,  and  learns  moral  lessons  from  the  hawk 
and  piece  of  meat,  and  from  the  slave-girl,  to  whom  loss  of  hope  alone  brought 

A   KING'S   LIFE   SAVED   BY   SPELLS   (THUSA-JATAKA,    338)      .  .         240 

A  king  is  saved  from  being  killed  by  his  son,  through  repeating  spells  at 
critical  moments. 

THE  HERON'S  REVENGE  (KUNTANI-JATAKA,  343)        .        .        .      243 

A  heron's  young  ones  are  killed  by  a  king's  sons,  and  in  revenge  she 
brings  about  their  death. 

THE   LION   AND   THE   BULL   (SANDHIBHEDA-JATAKA,   349)      .  .         245 

A  jackal  by  slanderous  words  brings  about  a  fatal  quarrel  between  a  lion 
and  a  bull. 

THE   QUAIL'S   FRIENDS   (LATUKIKA-JATAKA,    357)  .  .  .         247 

A  quail  with  the  help  of  a  crow,  a  fly,  and  a  frog,  destroys  an  elephant 
that  had  killed  her  young  ones. 

QUEEN   SUSSOXDI   (SUSSONDI-JATAKA,   360)  ....         250 

A  garuda  carries  off  a  king's  wife,  but  on  being  outwitted  by  a  minstrel 
lover,  brings  her  back. 


A  woman  kills  her  husband  and  goes  off  with  a  robber,  who  robs  and 
deserts  her.  Sakka  puts  her  to  shame  and  converts  her. 



THE   CAT    AND   THE   COCK   (KUKKUTA-JATAKA,   383)     .  .  258 

A  cat  flatters  a  cock,  but  fails  to  deceive  it. 


A  king  gets  a  charm  from  a  naga  by  which  he  understands  the  sounds  of 
all  animals.  His  wife  tries  to  get  the  charm  from  him,  but  is  foiled  through 
Sakka's  advice. 

THE  THEFT   OF   A   SMELL   (BHISAPUPPHA-JATAKA,    392)          .  .         263 

A  brahmin  is  accused  of  stealing  the  smell  of  a  flower. 

THE   LION   IN   BAD   COMPANY   (MANOJA-JATAKA,    397)  .  .  265 

A  lion  makes  friends  with  a  jackal,  who  gives  him  bad  advice  and  causes 
his  death. 

THE   OTTERS   AND   THE   JACKAL   (DABBHAPUPPHA-JATAKA,   400)   .         267 

Two  otters,  who  had  caught  a  fish,  are  cheated  out  of  it  by  a  jackal  as 

THE   BRAHMIN   AND   THE    SNAKE   (SATTUBHASTA-JATAKA,   402)      .         269 

An  old  brahmin  is  sent  away  by  his  wife  to  beg,  and  a  snake  gets  into  his 
meal-bag  unperceived.  A  brahmin  sage  guesses  that  the  snake  is  there,  and 
exposes  the  wife's  wickedness. 


Monkey's  fat  is  prescribed  as  a  cure  for  elephants  by  a  priest  who  out  of 
revenge  wishes  the  monkeys  to  be  destroyed. 

A  monkey  takes  his  followers  over  the  Ganges  at  the  cost  of  his  own  life. 


TAPA-JATAKA,   416) 283 

A  prince  understands  the  speech  of  animals.     His  father  is  murdered  by 
a  servant,  and  the  murder  is  avenged  by  the  prince's  younger  brother. 

THE   PANTHER   AND   THE   GOAT   (DIPI-JATAKA,    426)      .  .  .         289 

A  panther  falsely  accuses  a  goat  in  order  to  have  an  excuse  for  killing  it. 

THE   GRATEFUL   PARROT   (MAHASUKA-JATAKA,    429)      .  .  .         291 

Sakka  to  test  a  parrot  withers  up  its  tree,  but  the  bird  out  of  gratitude 
refuses  to  leave  it 


A  boy  receives  from  his  goblin  mother  the  power  of  tracing  footsteps, 
and  by  this  means  a  king  is  convicted  of  theft  and  put  to  death. 

THE   WISE   GOAT   AND    THE   JACKAL   (PUTIMAMSA-JATAKA,   437)    .         306 
A  wise  she-goat  outwits  a  jackal  that  was  plotting  to  kill  her. 



THE   UNGRATEFUL  SON   (TAKKALA-JATAKA,    446)  .  .  .         309 

An  ungrateful  son  plans  to  murder  his  father,  but  when  his  own  son 
overhearing  shews  him  an  object-lesson  of  his  own  ugliness,  he  is  put  to 

THE   TEN   SLAVE-BRETHREN   (GHATA-JATAKA,   454)        .  .  .         314 

A  girl  is  kept  prisoner  in  a  tower  that  she  may  marry  no  one,  but  she 
has  ten  sons,  who  plunder  the  land  and  capture  all  India,  including  a  city 
that  rises  in  the  air.  Finally  they  all  die  as  fated. 

RAMA   AND   SITA   (DASARATHA-JATAKA,   461)          .  .  .  .         325 

Two  princes  and  their  sister  are  sent  away  for  twelve  years  through  their 
step-mother's  jealousy.  At  their  father's  death  their  step-brother  goes  to 
bring  them  back,  but  they  refuse  to  return  until  the  twelve  years  are  up.  In 
the  meantime  the  shoes  of  Rama  the  eldest  rule  the  kingdom. 

THE   WICKED   STEP-MOTHER   (MAHAPADUMA-JATAKA,   472)    .  .         331 

A  queen  tempts  her  step-son  to  sin,  and  on  being  refused  pretends  that 
he  wished  to  force  her.  He  is  saved  by  the  deity  of  the  hill  down  which  he 
is  cast,  and  reconciled  to  his  father. 

THE   LOST   CHARM   (AMBA-JATAKA,   474) 337 

A  brahmin  learns  a  charm  from  a  low-caste  sage,  and  loses  it  again 
because  he  pretends  that  a  world-famed  teacher  gave  it  him. 



A  prince  falls  in  love  with  a  lady  by  finding  a  wreath  which  she  dropped 
into  a  river.  He  marries  her,  becomes  king,  and  discovers  the  power  of  the 

THE   FOLLY   OF   GARRULITY   (TAKKARIYA-JATAKA,   481)         .  .         348 

A  family  priest  plots  to  kill  his  wife's  paramour  and  fails  by  talking  too 
soon.  Another  priest  shews  him  his  folly  by  telling  him  the  stories  of  (1)  a 
young  man  deceived  by  a  courtesan,  (2)  a  bird  killed  by  two  fighting  rams, 
(3)  four  men  killed  in  saving  another,  (4)  a  goat  that  finds  the  knife  that  was 
to  kill  her,  (5)  two  fairies  who  knew  when  to  be  silent. 

THE   HAWKS   AND   THEIR   FRIENDS   (MAHAUKKUSA-JATAKA,    486)          357 

Hawks  make  friends  with  an  osprey,  a  lion,  and  a  tortoise,  through 
whom  their  nestlings  are  saved. 


A  prince  marries  a  princess  on  condition  that  he  has  no  other  wife. 
They  are  childless  but  he  refuses  other  wives.  Sakka  at  the  wife's  prayer 
gives  a  son,  and  builds  a  magical  palace  for  him.  The  son  cannot  laugh 
until  Sakka  sends  a  juggler  to  perform  tricks. 




Two  men  remain  fast  friends  through  many  births — as  out-casts,  who 
pretend  to  be  brahmins,  and  are  discovered,  as  deer,  ospreys,  and  as  son  of 
a  family  priest  and  son  of  a  king.  The  former  becomes  an  ascetic,  and  is 
recognised  by  the  king  through  the  song  that  he  sings. 

KING   SIVI   (SIVI-JATAKA,   499) 381 

King  Sivi  vows  to  give  anything  that  is  asked  of  him.  Sakka  assumes 
the  form  of  a  blind  brahmin  and  asks  for  his  eyes.  Sivi  makes  an  Act  of 
Truth  and  his  eyes  are  restored. 

THE   EVILS   OF   STRONG   DRINK  (KUMBHA-JATAKA,   512)         .  .         390 

A  forester  accidentally  discovers  strong  drink,  and  it  leads  to  the  ruin  of 
all  India.  Sakka  appears,  exposes  its  evils,  and  dissuades  a  king  from  its 


A  female  elephant  conceives  a  grudge  against  her  husband.  She  pines 
away,  dies,  and  is  re-born  as  a  queen.  Remembering  her  grudge  she  orders 
the  elephant's  tusks  to  be  brought  to  her.  A  hunter  kills  the  elephant  and 
brings  the  tusks  to  the  queen,  but  she  on  hearing  of  his  death  is  filled  with 
remorse  and  dies. 

THE   THREE   WISE   BIRDS   (TESAKUNA-JATAKA,   521)      .  .  .         409 

A  king  adopts  three  birds  as  children.  They  are  educated,  give  good 
advice,  and  are  promoted  to  high  office. 


529) 418 

A  prince  and  the  sou  of  a  family  priest  are  brought  up  together.  The 
prince  is  chosen  king  of  Benares  by  the  festal  car,  and  his  friend  becomes 
an  ascetic.  Forty  years  afterwards  the  king  remembers  his  friend,  and  finds 
him  again  by  means  of  a  soug  which  he  causes  to  be  sung. 

THE   UGLY   BRIDEGROOM   (KUSA-JATAKA,   531)      ....         427 

A  childless  king  at  length  has  two  sons  bestowed  on  him  by  Sakka,  one 
of  whom  is  ugly.  The  ugly  son  consents  to  marry,  if  a  lady  can  be  found  like 
a  golden  image  which  he  makes.  His  wife  when  found  is  not  allowed  to  see 
him,  but  on  discovering  how  ugly  he  is,  she  returns  to  her  parents.  He 
follows,  and  in  various  ways  tries  to  win  her  affections,  but  fails  until  he 
rescues  her  from  seven  hostile  kings. 

THE   NINETEEN   PROBLEMS   (FROM   JATAKA    546)  ....         459 

1.  The  piece  of  meat.  2.  The  cattle.  3.  The  necklace  of  thread. 
4.  The  cotton  thread.  5.  The  son.  6.  The  black  ball.  7.  The  chariot. 
8.  The  pole.  9.  The  head.  10.  The  snake.  11.  The  cock.  12.  The  gem. 
13.  The  calving.  14.  The  boiled  rice.  15.  The  sand.  16.  The  tank. 
17.  The  park.  18.  The  ass.  19.  The  jewel  in  a  crow's  nest. 


INDEX  482 


PLATE  To  face  page 

I.        KING   MAKHADEVA   FINDS   A   GREY   HAIR          .  18 

(Jdtaka  9,  p.  18) 

II.        THE   STUPID   MONKEYS 46 

(Jdtaka  46,  p.  45) 

III.  THE  CRAB  AND  THE  ELEPHANT   .     .     .     212 

(Jdtaka  267,  p.  211) 

IV.  THE   CONCEITED  MENDICANT  .  .  .  233 

(Jdtaka  324,  two  scenes,  pp.  233,  234) 

V.        THE   QUAIL   AND   HER   FRIENDS       .  .  .  248 

(Jdtaka  357,  three  scenes,  pp.  248,  249) 

VI.        THE   CAT  AND   THE  COCK        .  .  .  .  258 

(Jdtaka  383,  p.  258) 

VII.       THE   OTTERS   AND   THE  JACKAL        .  .  .  268 

(Jdtaka  400,  two  scenes,  p.  267) 

VIII.    THE  MONKEY'S  SELF-SACRIFICE     .        .        .        282 

(Jdtaka  407,  three  scenes,  pp.  281,  282) 


T\7E  find  in  Hesiod  the  story  of  Jason,  the  son  of  Aeson, 
who  by  the  will  of  the  immortal  gods  achieved  the 
many  lamentable  labours  imposed  on  him  by  the  haughty 
king  Pelias,  and  who  after  his  grievous  toils  carried  off  the 
bright-eyed  maiden  and  made  her  his  wife.  This  is  a  form 
of  the  tale  known  as  the  Hero's  Tasks,  which  exists  among 
the  most  widely-scattered  peoples.  The  comparative 
mythologists  have  explained  it  as  a  myth  of  the  spring 
rains  and  the  moon,  but  it  does  not  fit  into  any  of  the 
theories  of  folktales  prepared  for  its  reception.  Benfey 
held  that  although  the  impulse  to  invent  folktales  is  a 
feature  of  general  human  nature,  yet  the  existing  folktales 
of  Europe  and  Asia  as  a  matter  of  fact  originated  in 
India.  But  this  theory  too  is  contradicted  by  the  Jason 
story.  Andrew  Lang  has  compared  various  forms  of  it 
found  among  peoples  not  related  either  in  language  or 
culture — the  Algonquin  Indians,  the  Samoans,  and  Zulus, 
besides  European  races.  It  also  exists  in  an  Indian  shape 
in  the  present  selection  of  birth-stories  from  the  Jataka 
(No.  220).  This  instance  suggests,  and  many  more  could 
be  given,  that  it  is  too  early  to  speak  of  a  "  science  of  folk- 
tales." The  investigators  are  not  yet  even  agreed  upon  a 
scientific  method. 

The  great   authority  of  Benfey  has   popularised   the 
view  that  Indian  folktales  originated  with  the  Buddhists. 

F.  &  T.  1 


His  work  was  done  before  the  Jataka,  the  great  collection 
of  buddhist  birth-stories,  was  known,  and  it  is  now  possible 
to  see  from  the  stories  themselves  that,  so  far  from 
Buddhism  being  a  great  source  of  folktales,  the  bulk  of 
those  which  occur  in  the  Jataka  are  prebuddhistic,  and 
merely  adaptations  of  Indian  tales. 

Benfey's  main  argument  for  the  buddhistic  origin  of 
Indian  folktales  was  the  fact  that  traces  of  Buddhism 
appeared  to  be  found  ia  the  Panchatantra,  the  Indian 
collection  of  tales  which  has  become  widely  known  in  the 
West  as  the  fables  of  Bidpai.  From  this  he  inferred 
that  the  Panchatantra  was  a  buddhist  work  revised  by 
Brahmins.  But  we  now  know  that  the  work  was  of 
Brahmin  origin,  and  had  been  revised  in  the  versions 
which  Benfey  used  by  Buddhist  or  Jain  editors.  This  has 
been  proved  by  Dr  Hertel,  who  has  edited  and  translated 
a  much  earlier  form  of  the  Panchatantra,  known  as  the 
Tantrakhyayika,  which  is  purely  brahmanistic  and  without 
any  buddhist  features.  The  question  of  the  history  of 
Indian  folktales  has  not  been  simplified  by  this  discovery, 
but  it  has  made  it  impossible  to  look  for  their  origin  in 

The  Jataka,  as  we  possess  it,  occurs  in  the  second  of 
the  three  great  divisions  of  the  Pali  Buddhist  Scriptures, 
and  in  the  Miscellaneous  Collection  of  Discourses  (Khud- 
dhaka  Nikaya)  of  this  division.  It  consists  of  547  jatakas, 
each  containing  an  account  of  the  life  of  Gotama  Buddha 
during  some  incarnation  in  one  of  his  previous  existences 
as  a  Bodhisatta,  or  being  destined  to  enlightenment,  before 
he  became  Buddha,  the  Enlightened  One.  This  number 
does  not  correspond  to  exactly  547  stories,  because  some 
of  the  tales  occur  more  than  once  in  a  different  setting,  or 
in  a  variant  version,  and  occasionally  several  stories  are 


included  in  one  birth.  Each  separate  story  is  embedded 
in  a  framework,  which  forms  the  Story  of  the  Present. 
This  is  generally  an  account  of  some  incident  in  the  life  of 
the  historic  Buddha,  such  as  an  act  of  disobedience  or 
folly  among  the  brethren  of  the  Order,  the  discussion  of 
a  question  of  ethics,  or  an  instance  of  eminent  virtue. 
Buddha  then  tells  a  Story  of  the  Past,  an  event  in  one  of 
his  previous  existences  which  explains  the  present  incident 
as  a  repetition  of  the  former  one,  or  as  a  parallel  case,  and 
shews  the  moral  consequences. 

To  adapt  such  an  ancient  tale  was  in  general  a  simple 
matter,  as  it  was  not  necessary  to  make  the  actors 
Buddhists.  The  tale  might  be  told  of  a  past  time  Avhen 
there  was  no  Buddha  in  existence,  and  in  which  the 
ideas  are  those  of  ordinary  Hinduism.  The  one  feature 
necessary  for  the  story  is  that  the  Bodhisatta  in  some 
character  should  appear.  When  the  tale  itself  contained 
no  instance  of  a  wise  person  who  could  play  the  part  of 
the  Bodhisatta,  modification  was  necessary;  though  this 
is  often  done  by  making  the  Bodhisatta  a  divinity  or  a 
sage  who  witnesses  the  events  and  recites  the  gdthas,  the 
verses  with  which  the  tale  concludes.  Some  of  the  stories 
of  the  past  are  evidently  manufactured  by  adapting  the 
circumstances  in  the  story  of  the  present,  and  building  up 
a  story  of  the  past  out  of  it.  Verses  occur  in  all  the  births. 
In  the  first  division  of  the  work  there  is  one  verse  in  each 
tale,  in  the  second  two,  and  so  on  in  increasing  number. 
It  is  these  verses  alone  which  are  canonical,  the  prose 
being  a  commentary  explaining  how  the  verses  came  to 
be  spoken.  But  even  here  there  is  evidence  of  adaptation. 
Some  of  the  stories  of  the  past  contain  no  verses,  and  in 
order  to  make  the  whole  correspond  to  one  type  verses 
are  inserted  in  the  frame  story,  and  spoken  by  the  Buddha 



after  or  during  the  recitation  of  the  story  of  the  past.  An 
instance  will  be  found  in  Jat.  206,  p.  173. 

Buddhism  took  over  the  Hindu  doctrine  of  re-birth 
and  karma,  but  moralised  it.  Re-birth  in  heaven  is  no 
longer  due  to  performing  animal  sacrifices,  or  the  in- 
fliction of  self-torture,  but  to  practising  the  virtues 
emphasised  by  Buddha,  almsgiving,  truth-speaking,  for- 
giveness of  enemies.  But  this  teaching,  which  is  the 
prominent  one  in  the  Jataka,  is  not  the  essence  of 
buddhism.  Doing  good  actions  can  never  lead  to  salva- 
tion. "Whoever  shall  do  nothing  but  good  works  will 
receive  nothing  but  excellent  future  rewards."  The  aim 
of  the  disciple  is  not  to  accumulate  merit,  but  to  win 
Insight.  Yet  although  much  of  the  Jataka  is  merely  moral 
instruction  to  the  unconverted,  it  also  expounds  teaching 
which  leads  to  enlightenment,  such  as  the  doctrine  of 
impermanence,  belief  in  the  Buddha,  the  rejection  of 
superstitious  rites,  freedom  from  lust,  hatred,  and  delusion, 
and  other  bonds  which  the  disciple  must  break  as  he 
advances  on  the  Noble  Path. 

With  regard  to  the  question  of  the  relation  of  the 
Jataka  to  non-buddhist  Indian  works,  important  results  are 
reached  by  Franke  in  his  article  "Jataka  Mahabharata 
Parallelen1."  He  has  shewn  by  the  detailed  examination 
of  a  number  of  parallel  tales,  as  well  as  of  verses  common 
to  the  Jataka  and  Mahabharata  that  neither  work  is 
directly  dependent  on  the  other,  but  that  they  are  con- 
nected only  through  common  sources. 

A  more  difficult  question  is  the  relation  of  the  beast 
fables  to  the  fables  of  Aesop.  Benfey  became  so  firmly 
assured  of  the  Greek  origin  of  such  fables  in  the 
Panchatantra  that  he  refused  to  place  the  origin  of  that 

1   WZKM.  (Vienna  Or.  Journ.)  xx  317  ff.   This  has  been  fully  utilised  in  the  notes. 


work  earlier  than  200  B.C.,  on  the  ground  that  this  was  the 
earliest  date  at  which  a  knowledge  of  Aesop's  fables  could 
have  reached  India.  But  in  the  Jataka  we  now  possess 
evidence  for  putting  the  existence  of  these  fables  in  India 
much  earlier.  On  several  buddhist  stupas1  in  India  are 
carved  representations  of  scenes  in  some  of  the  Jataka 
tales  and  fables.  The  earliest  and  most  important  of  these 
monuments  is  the  Stupa  of  Bharhut,  a  village  120  miles 
south-west  of  Allahabad,  the  remains  of  which  were  dis- 
covered by  Sir  A.  Cunningham  in  1873.  Carved  in  relief 
on  the  railings  are  a  number  of  scenes  of  jataka  tales  and 
fables  with  their  titles.  Twenty-eight  have  been  identified, 
several  so-called  Aesopic  fables  being  among  them.  The 
date  of  the  stupa  is  put  on  epigraphical  grounds  between 
250 — 200  B.C.,  and  we  may  assert  the  existence  of  jataka 
tales  as  early  as  the  fourth  century  B.C.,  while  the  tales  and 
fables  which  Buddhism  adopted  must  be  much  older.  The 
first  feeling  of  the  folklorists  on  the  publication  of  the 
Jataka  was  one  of  disappointment.  Benfey's  investiga- 
tions had  all  been  on  the  assumption  of  a  great  buddhist 
source  for  Indian  tales,  and  the  Jataka  contained  hardly 
anything  which  bore  out  current  theories.  It  was  sug- 
gested that  the  Pali  scholars  had  played  their  best  trumps, 
or  were  trying  to  win  tricks  with  cards  which  they  kept  up 
their  sleeve.  But  the  Jataka  had  really  left  the  folklorist 
without  a  card  for  the  game.  The  stories  instead  of  being 
"  a  scanty  contribution  to  the  Aesopic  question  "  made  it 
obsolete.  They  proved  the  existence  of  a  great  body  of 
Indian  fable  independent  of  any  Greek  source.  As 
Mr  Jacobs  has  said,  "it  is  idle  to  talk  of  a  body  of 
literature  [Aesop]  amounting  to  300  numbers  being  derived 

1  For  a  general  description  of  these  monuments,  see  Griinwedel,  Buddhist  Art 
in  India,  London,  1901. 


from  another  [the  Jataka]  running  also  to  300,  when  they 
have  only  a  dozen  items  in  common." l 

The  much  smaller  question  that  remains  is  how,  after 
setting  aside  the  bulk  of  jataka  beast  fables  as  of  Indian 
origin,  are  we  to  explain  the  parallelism  in  about  a  dozen 
which  more  or  less  resemble  Aesop?  More  than  this 
number  have  been  compared,  but  many  of  the  parallelisms, 
which  were  taken  for  granted  as  long  as  a  common  origin 
was  assumed,  have  no  value  now  that  the  question  is  open. 
Mr  Jacobs  quotes  Jat.  30,  32,  34  (with  45),  136,  143,  146, 
189,  215,  294,  308,  374,  383,  426,  and  among  them  are 
parallels  to  such  well-known  fables  as  The  Ass  in  the  Lion's 
Skin,  The  Wolf  and  the  Lamb,  and  The  Fox  and  the  Crow. 
It  is  not  necessary  for  the  present  purpose  to  prove  that 
even  these  are  related  in  origin.  The  independent  origin 
of  similar  tales  is  still  a  tenable  theory ;  but  it  is  possible 
to  shew,  on  the  assumption  that  they  are  connected,  that 
a  path  of  transmission  from  India  to  Greece  was  open  long 
before  communications  were  established  by  Alexander. 
This  was  from  India  to  Persia,  and  from  Persia  to  Asia 
Minor.  It  can  also  be  shewn  that  tales  from  India  actually 
reached  Persia  and  the  Euphrates  district  independently 
of  any  Greek  mediation.  Relations  with  India  in  the 
sixth  century  B.C.  are  shewn  by  the  inscriptions  of  Darius 
the  Great  (521 — 485  B.C.),  especially  in  one  at  Persepolis, 
which  mentions  Indush  (the  Indus  district)  and  Gandara 
among  the  peoples  who  brought  him  tribute.  In  the 
Story  of  Ahikar2  we  have  a  Persian  or  Babylonian  story 
which  Benfey  identified  with  a  well-known  Indian  type.  It 
is  the  tale  of  a  king's  minister,  who  falls  into  disfavour, 
and  is  restored  through  his  skill  in  answering  certain 

1  See  Jacobs'  History  of  the  ^Esopic  Fable,  p.  108. 

2  See  note  on  The  Nineteen  Problems. 


problems  that  had  been  sent  to  the  king.  This  tale 
occurs  in  several  Indian  forms,  and  in  Pali  in  a  much 
inflated  version  as  the  Mahaummagga  Jataka  (546).  The 
nineteen  problems  that  occur  in  it  are  given  below.  The 
identity  of  several  of  the  problems  with  the  Indian,  as 
well  as  the  structure  of  the  tale,  is  strong  confirmation  of 
the  identity  of  the  stories.  One  of  the  problems  is  the 
biblical  Judgment  of  Solomon,  for  which  Salzberger1  had 
already  suggested  a  Persian  origin.  The  date  of  the  tale 
in  Persia  must  be  at  least  of  the  fifth  century  B.C.,  as  frag- 
ments of  an  Aramaic  version  of  it  have  been  discovered  in 
a  Persian  military  colony  of  Jews  at  Elephantine,  which 
was  established  there  during  the  supremacy  of  the  Persians 
over  Egypt.  The  penetration  of  the  Ahikar  story  may  be 
anterior  to  the  Persian  conquest  of  Babylon.  That  there 
were  trade  relations  very  early  with  India  may  be  inferred 
from  the  Semitic  origin  of  the  Indian  alphabet.  Jat.  339 
speaks  of  a  voyage  from  India  to  Baveru,  which  is  probably 
Babylon  (Babilu). 

Mr  Jacobs  gives  several  parallels  to  Indian  fables  from 
Midrash  Rabba2,  a  rabbinical  commentary  on  the  Penta- 
teuch and  Five  Rolls.  This  work  is  a  compilation  much 
later  than  the  date  of  the  entry  of  Greeks  into  India,  but 
it  contains  fables  which  possess  Indian  features  not  found 
in  the  corresponding  Greek  fables,  and  it  shews  communi- 
cation with  India  outside  Greek  influence.  According  to 
Winter  and  Wiinsche  this  Midrash  is  in  part  Babylonian, 
the  older  parts  being  Palestinian.  The  fables  occurring  in 
it  are  used  as  illustrations,  and  have  the  appearance  of 
having  been  orally  acquired.  On  Gen.  xxvi.  26  is  told  the 
fable  of  the  Egyptian  partridge,  which  extracts  a  bone 

1  Die  Salomo-Sage,  p.  4,  Berlin,  1.907. 

2  German  translation  by  A.  Wiinsche,  Bibliotheca  Rabbinica,  Leipzig,  1880 — 85. 


from  the  throat  of  a  lion,  as  in  Jat.  308,  not  a  wolf,  as  in 
Aesop  (Halm  276,  276b).  On  Esther  iii.  6,  a  bird,  which 
builds  its  nest  on  the  sea-shore  that  was  threatened  by  the 
waves,  tries  to  bale  out  the  water  with  its  beak,  and  is 
rebuked  by  another  bird.  Cf.  Jat.  146,  which  is  without  a 
parallel  in  Aesop.  On  Esth.  iii.  1  is  told  the  story  of 
a  man  who  had  a  she-ass,  its  foal,  and  a  sow.  To  the  latter 
he  gives  unstinted  food,  but  to  the  others  in  proportion. 
The  foal  inquires  of  its  mother  why  the  idle  sow  should  be 
so  fed.  The  ass  replies,  the  hour  will  soon  come  when 
you  will  see  the  sow's  fate,  and  understand  that  it  was  well 
fed  not  out  of  favour,  but  for  a  disgraceful  end.  When 
the  feast  comes,  the  fatted  sow  is  killed,  and  the  moral 
explained  to  the  foal.  So  in  Jat.  30,  where  an  ox  and  its 
younger  brother  take  the  place  of  the  ass  and  foal.  But 
in  Aesop  (Halm  113)  a  heifer  pities  a  working  ox.  At  the 
feast  it  is  taken  to  be  slaughtered,  and  the  ox  smiles  and 
points  the  moral. 

By  Aesop  we  mean  the  Greek  fables  of  various  dates 
which  have  become  collected  uiider  that  name.  Although 
the  traditions  as  to  the  historical  existence  of  Aesop  are 
of  no  value,  it  is  significant  that  Phrygia  occurs  most 
frequently  as  the  home  of  Aesop.  The  name  is  probably 
Phrygian.  Aesepos  is  the  name  of  a  river  of  Phrygia  and 
Mysia,  and  also  of  a  Trojan  at  the  siege  of  Troy.  The 
"priority"  or  rather  independence  of  Greek  fable  may 
be  considered  certain,  but  if  in  the  case  of  a  few  it  is 
necessary  to  infer  a  connexion  with  the  East,  then  we  have 
a  natural  explanation  in  the  relations  of  the  Greeks  of 
Asia  Minor  with  their  eastern  neighbours  and  with  Persia. 
Greek  relations  with  Persia  need  no  detailed  proof.  The 
Persian  tale  of  Herodotus  referred  to  on  Jat.  67  (p.  70) 
shews  how  such  stories  could  easily  pass  to  Greece. 


The  works  shewing  the  closest  relationship  with  the 
Jataka  are  naturally  buddhist  compositions,  such  as  the 
Pali  Cariya-Pitaka,  the  Sanskrit  Jatakamala,  Schiefner's 
collection  of  Tibetan  tales,  and  Chinese  translations  from 
buddhist  Sanskrit  sources.  The  most  extensive  connexion 
with  non-buddhistic  collections  is,  apart  from  the  Mahab- 
harata,  the  Panchatantra,  three  of  the  frame  stories  of 
which  occur  in  the  Jataka,  as  well  as  a  variant  of  a  fourth 
(141,  206,  208,  349),  and  a  number  of  single  tales.  A 
detailed  comparison  shews  much  the  same  result  as  in 
Franke's  investigation  of  the  Mahabharata  tales,  that  is, 
no  direct  borrowing  on  either  side,  but  common  inherit- 
ance from  an  earlier  source.  It  was  firmly  held  by  Benfey 
that  the  Vetalapancaviihsatika,  "twenty-five  tales  of  a 
vampire,"  was  of  buddhist  origin.  It  is  true  that  a  version 
of  it  has  found  its  way  to  the  buddhist  Mongols,  where  it 
is  known  as  Ssidi  Kur,  but  it  is  difficult  to  imagine  such 
a  thesaurus  of  intrigue  originating  in  a  buddhist  com- 
munity. The  only  traces  of  it  in  the  Jataka  are  145,  of 
which  the  Vet  No.  21  shews  a  greatly  elaborated  version, 
Jat.  527  (Vet.  16),  and  possibly  a  much  moralised  version 
of  No.  2  in  Jat.  200. 

We  are  dealing  with  a  much  simpler  problem  than  the 
oral  transmission  of  folktales,  when  we  find  Jataka  stories 
in  mediaeval  and  modern  European  literature,  such  as  that 
of  the  robbers  and  the  treasure  in  Chaucer's  Pardoner's 
Tale  (Jat.  48),  or  of  the  ploughshares  eaten  by  mice  (Jat. 
218),  and  the  tortoise  and  geese  (Jat.  215)  among  La 
Fontaine's  fables.  These  tales  can  be  proved  to  have 
spread  over  Europe  through  literary  channels.  The  Pan- 
chatantra was  translated  into  Pahlavi  from  an  imperfect 
Indian  MS.  for  the  Sassanid  king  Khosrau  Anosherwan, 
who  reigned  from  531  to  579  A.D.  This  translation  has 


disappeared,  but  the  closest  representatives  of  it  exist  in 
Syriac  and  Arabic  versions,  known  as  Kalllah  and  Dimnah, 
and  in  English  as  the  Fables  of  Bidpai.  From  these,  and 
especially  from  the  Arabic,  Latin  translations  were  made 
in  the  middle  ages.  Their  history  properly  belongs  to  the 
genealogy  of  the  Panchatantra.  A  list  of  them  is  given  in 
Lancereau's  French  translation  of  the  Panchatantra  (Paris, 

The  present  selection  has  been  made  with  the  purpose 
of  bringing  together  the  Jataka  stories  of  most  interest, 
both  intrinsically,  and  also  from  the  point  of  view  of  the 
folklorist.  The  translation  adopted,  with  slight  revision  to 
remove  inconsistencies,  is  taken  from  the  complete  edition 
translated  under  the  editorship  of  Prof.  E.  B.  Cowell, 
Cambridge,  1895—1907. 

The  thanks  of  the  editors  are  due  to  Sir  J.  H.  Marshall, 
C.I.E.,  Director-General  of  Archaeology  in  India,  who  has 
had  photographs  expressly  taken  for  the  illustrations  of 
the  Jatakas  on  the  carvings  of  the  Bharhut  Stupa,  as  well 
as  to  Professor  E.  J.  Rapson,  who  has  given  much  help 
and  advice  in  their  preparation  and  selection. 

E.  J.  T. 

February  1916, 


Babr.     Babrii  fabulae  Aesopeae  recognovit  0.  Crusius.     Lipsiae,  1897. 

Benf.  Binl.    Pantschatantra,  iibersetzt  von  T.  Benfey.    1  Theil.    Einleitung.    Leipzig, 

Benf.  Kl.  Schr.     Kleinere  Schriften  von  T.  Benfey.    2  vols.     4  parts.     Berlin,  1890— 


Bharhut  Stupa.     A.  Cunningham.     The  Stupa  of  Bharhut.     London,  1879. 
Buddhaghosha.     Buddhaghosha's  Parables,  translated  by  T.  Rogers.     London,  1870. 
Clouston.     Popular  tales  and  fictions.     2  vols.     Edinburgh,  1887. 
Dods.     Select  fables  of  Esop  and  other  fabulists  (published  by  R.  Dodsley).    (Book  II 

from  the  moderns.)    Birmingham,  1764. 

Gesta  Rom.     Gesta  Romanorum  von  H.  Oesterley.     Berlin,  1872. 
Grimm.    Grimm's  Household  Tales,  tr.  by  M.  Hunt,  with  introduction  by  A.  Lang. 

London,  1884. 
Grimm,  Anm.     Anmerkungen  zu  den  Kinder-  u.  Hausmarchen  der  Briider  Grimm. 

Ed.  Balte  and  Polivka.    Vol.  i.     Leipzig,  1913.     (The  numbers  refer  to  the  usual 

numbering  of  the  tales.) 

Halm.     Fabulae  Aesopicae  collectae.    Ex  recog.  C.  Halmii.     Lipsiae,  1852. 
Hausrath.     Article  "  Fabel "  in  Paullys  Real-Encyclopadie  der  cl.  Altertumswissen- 

schaft.     Vol.  6.     1909. 
Jacobs.     History  of  the  Aesopic  fable.    (Vol.  1  of  The  Fables  of  Aesop  as  first  printed 

by  W.  Caxton... edited  and  induced  by  J.  Jacobs.     2  vols.)    London,  1889. 
Julien.    Contes  et  apologues  indiens,  traduction  deS.  Julien.     Paris,  1860. 
K.  D.  (Syr.).     Kalila  und  Dimna,  Syrisch  und  Deutsch.    F.  Schulthess.    Berlin,  1911. 
K.  D.  (Arab.).    Kalila  and  Dimna  or  the  fables  of  Bidpai,  translated  from  the  Arabic 

[of  De  Sacy's  text]  by  W.  Knatchbull.     Oxford,  1819. 
Kuhn.    E.  Kuhn,  Barlaam  und  Joasaph.  (Abh.  der  phil.-philol.  Cl.  der  k.  bayer.  Akad. 

der  Wiss.  xx.  1897). 

Mbh.    The  Mahabharata  translated  by  M.  N.  Dutt.     Calcutta,  1895—1905. 
Midr.   R.     Bibliotheca  Rabbinica,   in  deutscher  Uebertragung  von  A.   Wunsche. 

5  vols.     Leipzig,  1880—85. 
P.  (T.).    Tantrakhyayika,  die  alteste  Fassung  des  Pancatantra,  aus  dem   Sanskrit 

iibersetzt  mit  Einleitung  und  Anmerkungen  von  J.  Hertel.     Leipzig  und  Berlin, 

P.  (B.).     Pantschatantra:  Fiinf  Biicher  indischer  Fabeln...aus  dem  Sanskrit  iibersetzt 

mit  Einleitung  und  Anmerkungen  von  T.  Benfey.     Leipzig,  1859. 
Phaedr.     Phaedri  Fabulae  Aesopiae,  recogn.  L.  Miiller.     Lipsiae,  1868. 
Rhys  Davids.    Buddhist  Birth  Stories,  translated  by  T.  W.  Rhys  Davids.   London,  1880. 


Schmidt.    hDsans-blun  [Dsang-lun]  oder  der  "Weise  und  der  Thor  aus  dem  Tibetischen 

iibersetzt. .  .von  I.  J.  Schmidt.     St  Petersburg,  1843. 
Sind.    Comparetti.  Researches  respecting  the  Book  of  Sindibad  [with  the  text  and 

translation  of  the  Spanish  version].     Folklore  Soc.  ix.     London,  1882. 
Som.     The  Katha  Sarit  Sagara  or  Ocean  of  the  Streams  of  Story  [of  Somadeva] 

translated  from  the  original  Sanskrit  by  C.  H.  Tawney.    2  vols.    Calcutta,  1880 — 

Suk.     The  enchanted  parrot,  being  a  selection  from  the  Suka  Saptati.     Tr.  B.  H. 

Wortham.    London,  1911.    (Complete  German  tr.  by  R.  Schmidt.   Kiel,  1894.) 
Tib.  T.    Tibetan  Tales  derived  from  Indian  sources.     Translated  from  the  Tibetan 

of  the  Kah-gyur  by  F.  A.  von  Schiefner.    Done  into  English  by  W.  R.  S.  Ralston. 

London,  1882. 
Vet.    Vetalapancavinc.atika,  hrsg.  von  H.  Uhle.    (Abh.  fur  die  Kunde  des  Morgenl.  8. 

Leipzig,  1884. 



Once  on  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares  in  Kasi,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  into  a  gild- 
master's  family,  and  growing  up,  became  gildmaster1,  being 
called  Gildmaster  Little.  A  wise  and  clever  man  was  he, 
with  a  keen  eye  for  signs  and  omens.  One  day  on  his  way 
to  wait  upon  the  king,  he  came  on  a  dead  mouse  lying  on 
the  road ;  and,  taking  note  of  the  position  of  the  stars  at 
that  moment,  he  said,  "  Any  decent  young  fellow  with  his 
wits  about  him  has  only  to  pick  that  mouse  up,  and  he 
might  start  a  business  and  keep  a  wife." 

His  words  were  overheard  by  a  young  man  of  good 
family  but  reduced  circumstances,  who  said  to  himself, 
"  That's  a  man  who  has  always  got  a  reason  for  what  he 
says."  And  accordingly  he  picked  up  the  mouse,  which  he 
sold  for  a  farthing  at  a  tavern  for  their  cat. 

With  the  farthing  he  got  molasses  and  took  drinking 
water  in  a  water-pot.  Coming  on  flower-gatherers  return- 
ing from  the  forest,  he  gave  each  a  tiny  quantity  of  the 
molasses  and  ladled  the  water  out  to  them.  Each  of  them 
gave  him  a  handful  of  flowers,  with  the  proceeds  of  which, 
next  day,  he  came  back  again  to  the  flower  grounds  pro- 
vided with  more  molasses  and  a  pot  of  water.  That  day 
the  flower-gatherers,  before  they  went,  gave  him  flowering 
plants  with  half  the  flowers  left  on  them;  and  thus  in 
a  little  while  he  obtained  eight  pennies. 

1  The  gildmaster  (setthi)  belonged  to  the  class  of  householders.  He  was  not  an 
official  of  the  king's  court,  though  he  had  official  relations  with  the  king.  Cf.  Fick, 
Die  soc.  Gliederung  im  nord-ost.  Indien  zu  Buddha's  Zeit,  p.  166.  Kiel,  1897. 


Later,  one  rainy  and  windy  day,  the  wind  blew  down 
a  quantity  of  rotten  branches  and  boughs  and  leaves  in 
the  king's  pleasaunce,  and  the  gardener  did  not  see  how 
to  clear  them  away.  Then  up  came  the  young  man  with 
an  offer  to  remove  the  lot,  if  the  wood  and  leaves  might 
be  his.  The  gardener  closed  with  the  offer  on  the  spot. 
Then  this  apt  pupil  of  Gildmaster  Little  repaired  to  the 
children's  playground  and  in  a  very  little  while  had  got 
them  by  bribes  of  molasses  to  collect  every  stick  and  leaf 
in  the  place  into  a  heap  at  the  entrance  to  the  pleasaunce. 
Just  then  the  king's  potter  was  on  the  look  out  for  fuel  to 
fire  bowls  for  the  palace,  and  coming  on  this  heap,  took 
the  lot  off  his  hands.  The  sale  of  his  wood  brought  in 
sixteen  pennies  to  this  pupil  of  Gildmaster  Little,  as  well 
as  five  bowls  and  other  vessels.  Having  now  twenty-four 
pennies  in  all,  a  plan  occurred  to  him.  He  went  to  the 
vicinity  of  the  city-gate  with  a  jar  full  of  water  and  supplied 
500  mowers  with  water  to  drink.  Said  they,  "  You've  done 
us  a  good  turn,  friend.  What  can  we  do  for  you  ? "  "  Oh, 
I'll  tell  you  when  I  want  your  aid,"  said  he ;  and  as  he  went 
about,  he  struck  up  an  intimacy  with  a  land-trader  and  a 
sea-trader.  Said  the  former  to  him,  "  To-morrow  there  will 
come  to  town  a  horse-dealer  with  500  horses  to  sell."  On 
hearing  this  piece  of  news,  he  said  to  the  mowers,  "  I  want 
each  of  you  to-day  to  give  me  a  bundle  of  grass  and  not  to 
sell  your  own  grass  till  mine  is  sold."  "  Certainly,"  said  they, 
and  delivered  the  500  bundles  of  grass  at  his  house.  Unable 
to  get  grass  for  his  horses  elsewhere,  the  dealer  purchased 
our  friend's  grass  for  a  thousand  pieces.  Only  a  few  days 
later  his  sea-trading  friend  brought  him  news  of  the  arrival 
of  a  large  ship  in  port ;  and  another  plan  struck  him.  He 
hired  for  eight  pence  a  well  appointed  carriage  which  plied 
for  hire  by  the  hour,  and  went  in  great  style  down  to  the 


port.  Having  bought  the  ship  on  credit  and  deposited 
his  signet-ring  as  security,  he  had  a  pavilion  pitched  hard 
by  and  said  to  his  people  as  he  took  his  seat  inside,  "When 
merchants  are  being  shewn  in,  let  them  be  passed  on  by 
three  successive  ushers  into  my  presence."  Hearing  that 
a  ship  had  arrived  in  port,  about  a  hundred  merchants 
came  down  to  buy  the  cargo ;  only  to  be  told  that  they 
could  not  have  it  as  a  great  merchant  had  already  made  a 
payment  on  account.  So  away  they  all  went  to  the  young 
man ;  and  the  footmen  duly  announced  them  by  three 
successive  ushers,  as  had  been  arranged  beforehand.  Each 
man  of  the  hundred  severally  gave  him  a  thousand  pieces 
to  buy  a  share  in  the  ship  and  then  a  further  thousand 
each  to  buy  him  out  altogether.  So  it  was  with  200,000 
pieces  that  this  pupil  of  Gildmaster  Little  returned  to 

Actuated  by  a  desire  to  shew  his  gratitude,  he  went 
with  one  hundred  thousand  pieces  to  call  on  Gildmaster 
Little.  "How  did  you  come  by  all  this  wealth?"  asked 
the  gildmaster.  "  In  four  short  months,  simply  by  follow- 
ing your  advice,"  replied  the  young  man ;  and  he  told  him 
the  whole  story,  starting  with  the  dead  mouse.  Thought 
Lord  High  Gildmaster  Little,  on  hearing  all  this,  "  I  must 
see  that  a  young  fellow  of  these  parts  does  not  fall  into 
anybody  else's  hands."  So  he  married  him  to  his  own 
grown-up  daughter  and  settled  all  the  family  estates  on 
the  young  man.  And  at  the  gildmaster's  death,  he  became 
gildmaster  in  that  city.  And  the  Bodhisatta  passed  away 
to  fare  according  to  his  deserts. 

The  same  tale  in  Som.  vi.  (i.  33).  In  K.  D.  (Arab.)  xvm.  it  forms  part  of  the  story 
of  The  king's  Son  and  his  Companions.  Of  these  four  one  is  a  husbandman,  who 
earns  money  by  carrying  wood,  as  in  the  first  part  of  the  jataka.  Another,  a  merchant's 
son,  trades  with  a  ship's  cargo,  as  in  the  latter  part.  The  adventures  of  the  king's 
son  form  an  episode  in  Jat.  445,  529,  539. 


Once  on  a  time  in  Benares  Brahmadatta  the  king, 
having  gone  in  great  state  to  his  pleasaunce,  was  roaming 
about  looking  for  fruits  and  flowers  when  he  came  on  a 
woman  who  was  merrily  singing  away  as  she  picked  up 
sticks  in  the  grove.  Falling  in  love  at  first  sight,  the  king 
became  intimate  with  her,  and  the  Bodhisatta  was  con- 
ceived then  and  there.  Feeling  as  heavy  within  as  though 
weighed  down  with  the  bolt  of  Indra,  the  woman  knew 
that  she  would  become  a  mother,  and  told  the  king  so. 
He  gave  her  the  signet-ring  from  his  finger  and  dismissed 
her  with  these  words : — "  If  it  be  a  girl,  spend  this  ring  on 
her  nurture;  but  if  it  be  a  boy,  bring  ring  and  child 
to  me." 

When  the  woman's  time  was  come,  she  bore  the  Bodhi- 
satta. And  when  he  could  run  about  and  was  playing  in 
the  playground,  a  cry  would  arise,  "  No-father  has  hit  me  !" 
Hearing  this,  the  Bodhisatta  ran  away  to  his  mother  and 
asked  who  his  father  was. 

"You  are  the  son  of  the  Kinpr  of  Benares,  mv  bov." 

V  *- 

"  What  proof  of  this  is  there  mother  ? "  "  My  son,  the  king 
on  leaving  me  gave  me  this  signet-ring  and  said,  '  If  it  be 
a  girl,  spend  this  ring  on  her  nurture ;  but  if  it  be  a  boy, 
bring  ring  and  child  to  me."  "Why  then  don't  you  take 
me  to  my  father,  mother  ? " 

Seeing  that  the  boy's  mind  was  made  up,  she  took  him 
to  the  gate  of  the  palace,  and  bade  their  coming  be 
announced  to  the  king.  Being  summoned  in,  she  entered 
and  bowing  before  his  majesty  said,  "This  is  your  son, 


The  king  knew  well  enough  that  this  was  the  truth,  but 
shame  before  all  his  court  made  him  reply,  "  He  is  no  son 


of  mine."  "  But  here  is  your  signet-ring,  sire ;  you  will 
recognise  that."  "Nor  is  this  my  signet -ring."  Then  said 
the  woman,  "Sire,  I  have  now  no  witness  to  prove  my 
words,  except  to  make  an  act  of  truth.  Wherefore,  if 
this  child  is  yours,  I  pray  that  he  may  stay  in  mid- 
air ;  but  if  not,  may  he  fall  to  earth  and  be  killed."  So 
saying,  she  seized  the  Bodhisatta  by  the  foot  and  threw 
him  up  into  the  air. 

Seated  cross-legged  in  mid-air,  the  Bodhisatta  in  sweet 
tones  repeated  this  stanza  to  his  father,  declaring  the 
truth : 

Your  son  am  I,  great  monarch;  rear  me,  Sire! 

The  king-  rears  others,  but  much  more  his  child. 

Hearing  the  Bodhisatta  thus  teach  the  truth  to  him 
from  mid-air,  the  king  stretched  out  his  hands  and  cried, 
"  Come  to  me,  my  boy !  None,  none  but  me  shall  rear  and 
nurture  you ! "  A  thousand  hands  were  stretched  out  to 
receive  the  Bodhisatta ;  but  it  was  into  the  arms  of  the 
king  and  of  no  other  that  he  descended,  seating  himself 
in  the  king's  lap.  The  king  made  him  viceroy,  and  made 
his  mother  queen-consort.  At  the  death  of  the  king 
his  father,  he  came  to  the  throne  by  the  title  of  King 
Katthavahana — the  faggot -bearer, — and  after  ruling  his 
realm  righteously,  passed  away  to  fare  according  to  his 

The  story  of  ^akuntala,  Mbh.  i.  chs.  70 — 74,  in  which  the  king  refuses  to  recognise 
Sakuntala,  until  a  voice  from  heaven  tells  him  to  do  so.  The  king  says  that  his 
refusal  was  in  order  that  the  people  might  be  convinced  of  the  truth  of  the  woman's 
story  by  a  divine  sign.  In  Kalidasa's  drama  the  ring  is  lost  and  recovered  from  a 
fish,  whereupon  the  king's  memory,  which  had  been  destroyed  by  a  sage's  curse,  is 
restored.  Buddhaghosha  xx.  follows  the  jataka  closely.  A  variant  occurs  in  Jat. 
487,  see  H.  Liiders  in  Windisch  Festschrift,  p.  228  ff.  S.  J.  Warren  (Herm.  xxix. 
478)  finds  the  germ  of  Kalidasa's  story  in  the  lost  ring.  This  is  just  the  feature 
which  does  not  occur  in  the  older  form  in  the  Mbh.  The  incident  of  finding  a  lost 
treasure  in  a  fish  occurs  in  the  quite  different  story  of  Jat.  288.  Cf.  Clouston,  i.  398, 
The  Ring  and  the  Fish. 

F.  &  T.  9 


Once  on  a  time  in  Mithila  in  the  realm  of  Videha 
there  was  a  king  named  Makhadeva,  who  was  righteous 
and  ruled  righteously.  For  successive  periods  of  eighty- 
four  thousand  years  he  had  respectively  amused  himself 
as  prince,  ruled  as  viceroy,  and  reigned  as  king.  All  these 
long  years  had  he  lived,  when  one  day  he  said  to  his 
barber, — "  Tell  me,  friend  barber,  Avhen  you  see  any  grey 
hairs  in  my  head."  So  one  day,  years  and  years  after,  the 
barber  did  find  among  the  raven  locks  of  the  king  a 
single  grey  hair,  and  he  told  the  king  so.  "  Pull  it  out, 
my  friend,"  said  the  king ;  "  and  lay  it  in  my  palm."  The 
barber  accordingly  plucked  the  hair  out  with  his  golden 
tongs,  and  laid  it  in  the  king's  hand.  The  king  had  at 
that  time  still  eighty-four  thousand  years  more  to  live ; 
but  nevertheless  at  the  sight  of  that  one  grey  hair  he  was 
filled  with  deep  emotion.  He  seemed  to  see  the  King  of 
Death  standing  over  him,  or  to  be  cooped  within  a  blazing 
hut  of  leaves.  "  Foolish  Makhadeva ! "  he  cried ;  "  grey 
hairs  have  come  upon  you  before  you  have  been  able  to 
rid  yourself  of  the  depravities."  And  as  he  thought  and 
thought  about  the  appearance  of  his  grey  hair,  he  grew 
aflame  within ;  the  sweat  rolled  down  from  his  body ; 
whilst  his  raiment  oppressed  him  and  seemed  intolerable. 
"  This  very  day,"  thought  he,  "  I  must  renounce  the  world 
for  a  hermit's  life." 

To  his  barber  he  gave  the  grant  of  a  village,  which 
yielded  a  hundred  thousand  pieces  of  money.  He  sent  for 
his  eldest  son  and  said  to  him,  "My  son,  grey  hairs  are 
come  upon  me,  and  I  am  become  old.  I  have  had  my  fill 
of  human  joys,  and  fain  would  taste  the  joys  divine ;  the 


4  S.1  D 

V  -" 




(Jntttkn  !).  j>.    18) 


time  for  my  renunciation  has  come.  Take  the  sovereignty 
upon  yourself;  as  for  me,  I  will  take  up  my  abode  in  the 
pleasaunce  called  Makhadeva's  Mango-grove,  and  there 
tread  the  ascetic's  path." 

As  he  was  thus  bent  on  becoming  a  hermit,  his 
ministers  drew  near  and  said,  "  What  is  the  reason,  sire,  of 
your  becoming  a  hermit  ? " 

Taking  the  grey  hair  in  his  hand,  the  king  repeated 
this  stanza  to  his  ministers: 

Lo,  these  grey  hairs  that  on  my  head  appear 
Are  Death's  own  messengers  that  come  to  rob 
My  life.    'Tis  time  I  turned  from  worldly  things, 
And  in  the  hermit's  path  sought  saving  peace. 

And  after  these  words,  he  renounced  his  sovereignty  that 
selfsame  day  and  became  a  recluse.  Dwelling  in  that 
very  Mango-grove  of  Makhadeva,  he  there  during  eighty- 
four  thousand  years  fostered  the  Four  Perfect  States 
within  himself,  and,  dying  with  ecstasy  full  and  unbroken, 
was  reborn  in  the  Realm  of  Brahma.  Passing  thence,  he 
became  a  king  again  in  Mithila,  under  the  name  of  Nimi, 
and  after  uniting  his  scattered  family,  once  more  became 
a  hermit  in  that  same  Mango-grove,  winning  the  Four 
Perfect  States  and  passing  thence  once  more  to  the  Realm 
of  Brahma. 

In  the  Makhadeva  Sutta  (Majjhima  Nikdya  S3),  Buddha  tells  the  same  story  more 
fully.  The  king,  his  son,  grandson,  and  great-grandson,  who  is  Nimi,  all  retire  from 
the  world  on  seeing  a  grey  hair.  The  career  of  Nimi  is  given  in  the  Nimi-Jdt.  541, 
in  which  he  is  taken  by  Sakka  to  see  the  various  heavens  and  hells,  as  Arjuna  is 
taken  in  Mbh.  in.  ch.  42.  The  scene  of  finding  the  grey  hair  is  illustrated  on  the 
Bharhut  Stupa,  pi.  XLVIII.  2,  and  inscribed  MagJiademya-jdtakam.  In  the  Vishnu 
Purdna,  iv.  5,  Nimi  is  condemned  to  exist  without  his  body  for  having  deprived 
Vasishtha  of  the  privilege  of  performing  a  sacrifice.  Cf.  Death's  Messengers  by 
R.  Morris  in  Journ.  Pali  Text  Sue.  1885,  p.  62. 


Once  on  a  time  at  the  foot  of  a  certain  mountain  there 
were  living  together  in  one  and  the  same  cave  two  friends, 
a  lion  and  a  tiger.  The  Bodhisatta  too  was  living  at  the 
foot  of  the  same  hill,  as  a  hermit. 

Now  one  day  a  dispute  arose  between  the  two  friends 
about  the  cold.  The  tiger  said  it  was  cold  in  the  dark 
half  of  the  month,  whilst  the  lion  maintained  that  it  was 
cold  in  the  light  half.  As  the  two  of  them  together  could 
not  settle  the  question,  they  put  it  to  the  Bodhisatta.  He 
repeated  this  stanza : 

In  light  or  dark  half,  whensoe'er  the  wind 
Doth  blow,  'tis  cold.    For  cold  is  caused  by  wind. 
And,  therefore,  I  decide  you  both  are  right. 

Thus  did  the  Bodhisatta  make  peace  between  those 

See  Jat.  248,  p.  196,  on  disputes  due  to  imperfect  knowledge. 


Once  on  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  a  brahmin,  who  was  versed  in  the  three  Vedas 
and  world-famed  as  a  teacher,  being  minded  to  offer  a 
Feast  for  the  Dead,  had  a  goat  fetched  and  said  to  his 
pupils,  "My  sons,  take  this  goat  down  to  the  river  and 
bathe  it ;  then  hang  a  wreath  round  its  neck,  adorn  it  with 
a  five-sprayed  garland,  and  bring  it  back." 

"  Very  good,"  said  they,  and  down  to  the  river  they 
took  the  goat,  where  they  bathed  and  adorned  the 
creature  and  set  it  on  the  bank.  The  goat,  becoming 


conscious  of  the  deeds  of  its  past  lives,  was  overjoyed  at 
the  thought  that  on  this  very  day  it  would  be  freed  from 
all  its  misery,  and  laughed  aloud  like  the  smashing  of 
a  pot.  Then  at  the  thought  that  the  brahmin  by  slaying 
it  would  bear  the  misery  which  it  had  borne,  the  goat  felt 
a  great  compassion  for  the  brahmin,  and  wept  with  a  loud 
voice.  "Friend  goat,"  said  the  young  brahmins,  "your 
voice  has  been  loud  both  in  laughter  and  in  weeping; 
what  made  you  laugh  and  what  made  you  weep?" 
"  Ask  me  your  question  before  your  master." 
So  with  the  goat  they  came  to  their  master  and  told 
him  of  the  matter.  After  hearing  their  story,  the  master 
asked  the  goat  why  it  laughed  and  why  it  wept.  Hereupon 
the  animal,  recalling  its  past  deeds  by  its  power  of  remem- 
bering its  former  existence,  spoke  thus  to  the  brahmin: 
"  In  times  past,  brahmin,  I,  like  you,  was  a  brahmin  versed 
in  the  mystic  texts  of  the  Vedas,  and  I,  to  offer  a  Feast  for 
the  Dead,  killed  a  goat  for  my  offering.  All  through 
killing  that  single  goat,  I  have  had  my  head  cut  off  five 
hundred  times  all  but  one.  This  is  my  five  hundredth  and 
last  birth  ;  and  I  laughed  aloud  when  I  thought  that  this 
very  day  I  should  be  freed  from  my  misery.  On  the  other 
hand,  I  wept  when  I  thought  how,  whilst  I,  who  for  killing 
a  goat  had  been  doomed  to  lose  my  head  five  hundred 
times,  was  to-day  being  freed  from  my  misery,  you,  as  a 
penalty  for  killing  me,  would  be  doomed  to  lose  your  head, 
like  me,  five  hundred  times.  Thus  it  was  out  of  com- 
passion for  you  that  I  wept."  "Fear  not,  goat,"  said  the 
brahmin;  "I  will  not  kill  you."  "What  is  this  you  say, 
brahmin  ? "  said  the  goat.  "  Whether  you  kill  me  or  not, 
I  cannot  escape  death  to-day."  "  Fear  not,  goat ;  I  will  go 
about  with  you  to  guard  you."  "  Weak  is  your  protection, 
brahmin,  and  strong  is  the  force  of  my  evil-doing." 

22       THE  FEAST  FOR  THE  DEAD 

Setting  the  goat  at  liberty,  the  brahmin  said  to  his 
disciples,  "  Let  us  not  allow  anyone  to  kill  this  goat " ; 
and,  accompanied  by  the  young  men,  he  followed  the 
animal  closely  about.  The  moment  the  goat  was  set  free, 
it  reached  out  its  neck  to  browse  on  the  leaves  of  a  bush 
growing  near  the  top  of  a  rock.  And  that  very  instant 
a  thunderbolt  struck  the  rock,  rending  off  a  mass  which 
hit  the  goat  on  the  outstretched  neck  and  tore  oft'  its 
head.  And  people  came  crowding  round. 

In  those  days  the  Bodhisatta  had  been  born  a  tree 
divinity  in  that  selfsame  spot.  By  his  supernatural  powers 
he  now  seated  himself  cross-legged  in  mid-air  while  all  the 
crowd  looked  on.  Thinking  to  himself,  "  If  these  creatures 
only  knew  the  fruit  of  evil-doing,  perhaps  they  would  desist 
from  killing,"  in  his  sweet  voice  he  taught  them  the  Truth 
in  this  stanza : 

If  folk  but  knew  the  truth  that  their  existence 
Is  pain,  then  living  things  would  cease 
From  taking  life.    Stern  is  the  slayer's  doom. 

Thus  did  the  Great  Being  preach  the  Truth,  scaring 
his  hearers  with  the  fear  of  hell ;  and  the  people,  hearing 
him,  were  so  terrified  at  the  fear  of  hell  that  they  left  off 
taking  life.  And  the  Bodhisatta  after  establishing  the 
multitude  in  the  Commandments  by  preaching  the  Truth 
to  them,  passed  away  to  fare  according  to  his  deserts. 
The  people,  too,  remained  steadfast  in  the  teaching  of  the 
Bodhisatta  and  spent  their  lives  in  charity  and  other  good 
works,  so  that  in  the  end  they  attained  to  the  City  of 
the  gods. 

The  incident  of  laughing  and  crying,  giving  rise  to  an  inquiry  as  to  the  cause, 
occurs  in  several  tales  of  Vet.,  13,  22,  and  23  MS.  f.,  and  in  the  Hindi  version  Baited 
Pachisi,  19.  The  Chaddanta-jdtaka,  514,  is  told  on  the  occasion  of  a  female  novice 
remembering  that  in  a  former  existence  she  was  the  wife  of  the  Bodhisatta.  Then 
remembering  that  she  also  caused  his  death  she  weeps. 


In  past  times,  we  are  told,  there  was  a  thick  forest  on 
this  spot1.  And  in  the  lake  here  dwelt  a  water-ogre  who 
used  to  devour  everyone  who  went  down  into  the  water. 
In  those  days  the  Bodhisatta  had  come  to  life  as  the  king 
of  the  monkeys,  and  was  as  big  as  the  fawn  of  a  red  deer ; 
he  lived  in  that  forest  at  the  head  of  a  troop  of  no  less 
than  eighty  thousand  monkeys  whom  he  shielded  from 
harm.  Thus  did  he  counsel  his  subjects:  "My  friends,  in 
this  forest  there  are  trees  that  are  poisonous  and  lakes 
that  are  haunted  by  ogres.  Mind  to  ask  me  first  before 
you  either  eat  any  fruit  which  you  have  not  eaten  before, 
or  drink  of  any  water  where  you  have  not  drunk  before." 
"  Certainly,"  said  they  readily. 

One  day  they  came  to  a  spot  they  had  never  visited 
before.  As  they  were  searching  for  water  to  drink  after 
their  day's  wanderings,  they  came  on  this  lake.  But  they 
did  not  drink;  on  the  contrary  they  sat  down  watching 
for  the  coming  of  the  Bodhisatta. 

When  he  came  up,  he  said,  "Well,  my  friends,  why 
don't  you  drink?" 

"  We  waited  for  you  to  come." 

"  Quite  right,  my  friends,"  said  the  Bodhisatta.  Then 
he  made  a  circuit  of  the  lake,  and  scrutinized  the  foot- 
prints round,  with  the  result  that  he  found  that  all  the 
footsteps  led  down  into  the  water  and  none  came  up  again. 
"  Without  doubt,"  thought  he  to  himself,  "  this  is  the  haunt 
of  an  ogre."  So  he  said  to  his  followers,  "  You  are  quite 
right,  my  friends,  in  not  drinking  of  this  water;  for  the 
lake  is  haunted  by  an  ogre." 

When  the  water-ogre  realised  that  they  were  not  enter- 
ing his  domain,  he  assumed  the  shape  of  a  horrible 

1  The  village  of  Nalakapana,  "  Reed-water." 


monster  with  a  blue  belly,  a  white  face,  and  bright-red 
hands  and  feet ;  in  this  shape  he  came  out  from  the  water, 
and  said,  "Why  are  you  seated  here?  Go  down  into  the 
lake  and  drink."  But  the  Bodhisatta  said  to  him,  "  Are 
not  you  the  ogre  of  this  water  ? "  "  Yes,  I  am,"  was  the 
answer.  "Do  you  take  as  your  prey  all  those  who  go 
down  into  this  water?"  "Yes,  I  do;  from  small  birds 
upwards,  I  never  let  anything  go  which  comes  down  into 
my  water.  I  will  eat  the  lot  of  you  too."  "  But  we  shall 
not  let  you  eat  us."  "  Just  drink  the  water."  "  Yes,  we 
will  drink  the  water,  and  yet  not  fall  into  your  power." 
"  How  do  you  propose  to  drink  the  water  then  ? "  "  Ah, 
you  think  we  shall  have  to  go  down  into  the  water  to 
drink ;  whereas  we  shall  not  enter  the  water  at  all,  but 
the  whole  eighty  thousand  of  us  will  take  a  reed  each 
and  drink  therewith  from  your  lake  as  easily  as  we  could 
through  the  hollow  stalk  of  a  lotus.  And  so  you  will  not 
be  able  to  eat  us."  And  he  repeated  the  latter  half  of  the 
following  stanza  (the  first  half  being  added  by  the  Master 
when,  as  Buddha,  he  recalled  the  incident) : 

I  found  the  footprints  all  lead  down,  none  back. 
With  reeds  we'll  drink :  you  shall  not  take  my  life. 

So  saying,  the  Bodhisatta  had  a  reed  brought  to  him. 
Then,  calling  to  mind  the  Ten  Perfections  displayed  by 
him,  he  recited  them  in  a  solemn  asseveration1,  and  blew 
down  the  reed.  Straightway  the  reed  became  hollow 
throughout,  without  a  single  knot  being  left  in  all  its 
length.  In  this  fashion  he  had  another  and  another 
brought  and  blew  down  them.  (But  if  this  were  so,  he 
could  never  have  finished ;  and  accordingly  the  foregoing 
sentence  must  not  be  understood  in  this — literal — sense.) 

1  Literally  "  made  a  truth-act."    If  this  is  done  with  intention,  a  miracle  instantly 
follows.     Of.  pp.  17,  69,  &c. 


Next  the  Bodhisatta  made  the  tour  of  the  lake,  and  com- 
manded, saying,  "  Let  all  reeds  growing  here  become 
hollow  throughout."  Now,  thanks  to  the  great  virtues  of 
the  saving  goodness  of  Bodhisattas,  their  commands  are 
always  fulfilled.  And  thenceforth  every  single  reed  that 
grew  round  that  lake  became  hollow  throughout. 

(In  this  Kappa,  or  Era,  there  are  four  miracles  which 
endure  through  the  whole  Era.  What  are  the  four  ?  Well, 
they  are — first,  the  sign  of  the  hare  in  the  moon,  which 
will  last  through  the  whole  Era ;  secondly,  the  spot  where 
the  fire  was  put  out  as  told  in  the  Yattaka  Jataka1,  which 
shall  remain  untouched  by  fire  throughout  the  Era ;  thirdly, 
on  the  site  of  Ghatikara's  house  no  rain  shall  ever  fall 


while  this  Era  lasts ;  and  lastly,  the  reeds  that  grow  round 
this  lake  shall  be  hollow  throughout  during  the  wThole  of 
the  Era.  Such  are  the  four  Era-miracles,  as  they  are 

After  giving  this  command,  the  Bodhisatta  seated 
himself  with  a  reed  in  his  hands.  All  the  other  eighty 
thousand  monkeys  too  seated  themselves  round  the  lake, 
each  with  a  reed  in  his  hands.  And  at  the  same  moment 
when  the  Bodhisatta  sucked  the  water  up  through  his 
reed,  they  all  drank  too  in  the  same  manner,  as  they  sat 
on  the  bank.  This  was  the  way  they  drank,  and  not  one 
of  them  could  the  water-ogre  get ;  so  he  went  off  in  a 
rage  to  his  own  habitation.  The  Bodhisatta,  too,  with  his 
following  went  back  into  the  forest. 

Variants  of  the  prince  or  monkey  going  to  the  ogre-haunted  lake,  and  overcoming 
the  ogre  by  cleverness,  occur  in  Jat.  6  and  58.  Mbh.  in.  chs.  311—313.  The  story 
also  forms  an  episode  in  P.  (B.)  v.  10,  The  Monkey's  Revenge,  the  main  thread  of 
which  story  forms  Jat.  404,  p.  277.  The  sign  of  the  hare  in  the  moon  is  common  Indian 
folklore,  cf.  Jat.  316,  p.  225,  Som.  LXII.  (ii.  66).  On  all  footsteps  leading  down  cf.  Aesop, 
The  Fox  and  sick  Lion,  Babr.  103,  Halm  246.  Horace,  Ep.  i.  i.  73 — 75. 

1  No.  35. 


Once  on  a  time  when  Brahinadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  result  of  a  past  act  of  the  Bodhisatta  was 
that  he  came  to  life  as  a  dog,  and  dwelt  in  a  great  cemetery 
at  the  head  of  several  hundred  dogs. 

Now  one  day,  the  king  set  out  for  his  pleasaunce  in  his 
chariot  of  state  drawn  by  white  Sindh  horses,  and  after 
amusing  himself  all  the  day  in  the  grounds  came  back  to 
the  city  after  sunset.  The  carriage-harness  they  left  in 
the  courtyard,  still  hitched  on  to  the  chariot.  In  the 
night  it  rained  and  the  harness  got  wet.  Moreover,  the 
king's  dogs  came  down  from  the  upper  chambers  and 
gnawed  the  leather  work  and  straps.  Next  day  they  told 
the  king,  saying,  "Sire,  dogs  have  got  in  through  the 
mouth  of  the  sewer  and  have  gnawed  the  leather  work 
and  straps  of  your  majesty's  carriage."  Enraged  at  the 
dogs,  the  king  said,  "  Kill  every  dog  you  see."  Then  began 
a  great  slaughter  of  dogs ;  and  the  creatures,  finding  that 
they  were  being  slain  whenever  they  were  seen,  repaired 
to  the  cemetery  to  the  Bodhisatta.  "  What  is  the  meaning," 
asked  he,  "  of  your  assembling  in  such  numbers  ? "  They 
said,  "The  king  is  so  enraged  at  the  report  that  the 
leather  work  and  straps  of  his  carriage  have  been  gnawed 
by  dogs  within  the  royal  precincts,  that  he  has  ordered  all 
dogs  to  be  killed.  Dogs  are  being  destroyed  wholesale, 
and  great  peril  has  arisen." 

Thought  the  Bodhisatta  to  himself,  "No  dogs  from 
without  can  get  into  a  place  so  closely  watched ;  it  must 
be  the  thorough-bred  dogs  inside  the  palace  who  have 
done  it.  At  present  nothing  happens  to  the  real  culprits, 
while  the  guiltless  are  being  put  to  death.  What  if  I 
were  to  discover  the  culprits  to  the  king  and  so  save  the 


lives  of  my  kith  and  kin?"  He  comforted  his  kinsfolk  by 
saying,  "Have  no  fear;  I  will  save  yon.  Only  wait  here 
till  I  see  the  king." 

Then,  guided  by  the  thoughts  of  love,  and  calling  to 
mind  the  Ten  Perfections,  he  made  his  way  alone  and 
unattended  into  the  city,  commanding  thus,  "  Let  no  hand 
be  lifted  to  throw  stick  or  stone  at  me."  Accordingly, 
when  he  made  his  appearance,  not  a  man  grew  angry  at 
the  sight  of  him. 

The  king  meantime,  after  ordering  the  dogs'  destruc- 
tion, had  taken  his  seat  in  the  hall  of  justice.  And  straight 
to  him  ran  the  Bodhisatta,  leaping  under  the  king's  throne. 
The  king's  servants  tried  to  get  him  out ;  but  his  majesty 
stopped  them.  Taking  heart  a  little,  the  Bodhisatta  came 
forth  from  under  the  throne,  and  bowing  to  the  king,  said, 
"Is  it  you  who  are  having  the  dogs  destroyed?"  "Yes,  it 
is  I."  "What  is  their  offence,  king  of  men?"  " They  have 
been  gnawing  the  straps  and  the  leather  covering  my 
carriage."  "  Do  you  know  the  dogs  who  actually  did  the 
mischief? "  "  Xo,  I  do  not."  "  But,  your  majesty,  if  you  do 
not  know  for  certain  the  real  culprits,  it  is  not  right  to 
order  the  destruction  of  every  dog  that  is  seen."  "  It  was 
because  dogs  had  gnawed  the  leather  of  my  carriage  that 
I  ordered  them  all  to  be  killed."  "Do  your  people  kill 
all  dogs  without  exception ;  or  are  there  some  dogs  who 
are  spared?"  "Some  are  spared,— the  thorough-bred 
dogs  of  my  own  palace."  "  Sire,  just  now  you  were  saying 
that  you  had  ordered  the  universal  slaughter  of  all  dogs 
wherever  found,  because  dogs  had  gnawed  the  leather  of 
your  carriage ;  whereas,  now,  you  say  that  the  thorough- 
bred dogs  of  your  own  palace  escape  death.  Therefore  you 
are  following  the  four  Evil  Courses  of  partiality,  dislike, 
ignorance  and  fear.  Such  courses  are  wrong,  and  not 


kinglike.  For  kings  in  trying  cases  should  be  as  unbiassed 
as  the  beam  of  a  balance.  But  in  this  instance,  since  the 
royal  dogs  go  scot-free,  whilst  poor  dogs  are  killed,  this 
is  not  the  impartial  doom  of  all  dogs  alike,  but  only  the 
slaughter  of  poor  dogs."  And  moreover,  the  Great  Being, 
lifting  up  his  sweet  voice,  said,  "Sire,  it  is  not  justice  that 
you  are  performing,"  and  he  taught  the  Truth  to  the 
king  in  this  stanza : 

The  dogs  that  in  the  royal  palace  grow, 

The  well-bred  dogs,  so  strong  and  fair  of  form,— 

Not  these,  but  only  we,  are  doomed  to  die. 

Here's  no  impartial  sentence  meted  out 

To  all  alike;  'tis  slaughter  of  the  poor. 

After  listening  to  the  Bodhisatta's  words,  the  king- 
said,  "Do  you  in  your  wisdom  know  who  it  actually  was 
that  gnawed  the  leather  of  my  carriage?"  "Yes,  sire." 
"Who  was  it?"  "The  thorough-bred  dogs  that  live  in 
your  own  palace."  "  How  can  it  be  shewn  that  it  was 
they  who  gnawed  the  leather ? "  "I  will  prove  it  to  you." 
"Do  so,  sage."  "Then  send  for  your  dogs,  and  have  a 
little  butter-milk  and  kusa-grass  brought  in."  The  king 
did  so. 

Then  said  the  Great  Being,  "  Let  this  grass  be  mashed 
up  in  the  butter-milk,  and  make  the  dogs  drink  it." 

The  king  did  so ; — with  the  result  that  each  several 
dog,  as  he  drank,  vomited.  And  they  all  brought  up  bits 
of  leather!  "Why  it  is  like  a  judgment  of  a  Perfect 
Buddha  himself,"  cried  the  king  overjoyed,  and  he  did 
homage  to  the  Bodhisatta  by  offering  him  the  royal 
umbrella.  And  the  Bodhisatta  taught  the  Truth  in  the 
ten  stanzas  on  righteousness  in  the  Te-sakuna  Jataka1, 
beginning  with  the  words: 

Walk  righteously,  great  king  of  princely  race. 

1  No.  521. 


Then  having  established  the  king  in  the  Five  Com- 
mandments, and  having  exhorted  his  majesty  to  be 
steadfast,  the  Bodhisatta  handed  back  to  the  king  the 
white  umbrella  of  kingship. 

At  the  close  of  the  Great  Being's  words,  the  king 
commanded  that  the  lives  of  all  creatures  should  be  safe 
from  harm.  He  ordered  that  all  dogs,  from  the  Bodhisatta 
downwards,  should  have  a  constant  supply  of  food  such 
as  he  himself  ate ;  and,  abiding  by  the  teachings  of  the 
Bodhisatta,  he  spent  his  life  long  in  charity  and  other 
good  deeds,  so  that  when  he  died  he  was  re-born  in  the 
world  of  gods.  The  'Dog's  Teaching'  endured  for  ten 
thousand  years.  The  Bodhisatta  also  lived  to  a  ripe 
old  age,  and  then  passed  away  to  fare  according  to  his 

Tib.  T.  xxxix.  The  Guilty  Dogs.  In  Jat.  546,  probl.  2,  the  theft  of  cattle  is 
discovered  by  the  same  means.  In  Tib.  T.  vin.  (a  variant  of  Jat.  546)  a  rogue  is 
convicted  in  the  same  manner,  see  note  on  Problem  2  of  The  Nineteen  Problems. 


Once  on  a  time,  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  came  to  life  as  an  ox,  named 
Big  Red,  on  the  landowner's  estate  in  a  certain  hamlet. 


And  he  had  a  younger  brother  who  was  known  as  Little 
Red.  There  were  only  these  two  brothers  to  do  all  the 
draught-work  of  the  family.  Also,  the  landowner  had 
an  only  daughter,  whose  hand  was  asked  in  marriage  for 
his  son  by  a  gentleman  of  the  town.  And  the  parents 
of  the  girl,  with  a  view  to  furnishing  dainty  fare  for  the 
wedding  guests,  began  to  fatten  up  a  pig  named  Munika. 

Observing  this,  Little  Red  said  to  his  brother,  "All 
the  loads  that  have  to  be  drawn  for  this  household  are 


drawn  by  you  and  me,  my  brother ;  but  all  they  give  us 
for  our  pains  is  sorry  grass  and  straw  to  eat.  Yet  here  is 
the  pig  being  victualled  on  rice !  What  can  be  the  reason 
why  he  should  be  treated  to  such  fare  ? " 

Said  his  brother,  "  My  dear  Little  Red,  envy  him  not ; 
for  the  pig  eats  the  food  of  death.  It  is  but  to  furnish 
a  relish  for  the  guests  at  their  daughter's  wedding,  that 
the  family  are  feeding  up  the  pig.  Wait  but  a  little  time 
and  the  guests  will  be  coming.  Then  will  you  see  that 
pig  lugged  out  of  his  quarters  by  the  legs,  killed,  and  in 
process  of  conversion  into  curry."  And  so  saying,  he 
repeated  this  stanza: 

Then  envy  not  poor  Munika;  'tis  death 

He  eats.    Contented  munch  your  frugal  chaff, 

—The  pledge  and  guarantee  of  length  of  days. 

Not  long  afterwards  the  guests  did  arrive;  and  Munika 
was  killed  and  cooked  into  all  manner  of  dishes.  Said 
the  Bodhisatta  to  Little  Red,  "  Did  you  see  Munika,  dear 
brother?"  "I  have  indeed  seen,  brother,  the  outcome  of 
Munika's  feasting.  Better  a  hundred,  nay  a  thousand, 
times  than  such  food  is  ours,  though  it  be  but  grass,  straw, 
and  chaff; — for  our  fare  harms  us  not,  and  is  a  pledge 
that  our  lives  will  not  be  cut  short." 

Variant  of  Jat.  286  and  a  close  parallel  to  the  Midrash  story  given  in  the  Intro- 
duction, p.  8.     Cf.  Benf.  Einl.  p.  229,  Jacobs  69. 


Once  on  a  time,  in  the  first  cycle  of  the  worlds  history, 
the  quadrupeds  chose  the  Lion  as  their  king,  the  fishes 
the  monster-fish  Ananda,  and  the  birds  the  Golden  Mal- 
lard1. Now  the  King  Golden  Mallard  had  a  lovely  young 

1  Cf.  No.  270,  p.  213. 


daughter,  and  her  royal  father  granted  her  any  boon  she 
might  ask.  The  boon  she  asked  for  was  to  be  allowed  to 
choose  a  husband  for  herself;  and  the  king  in  fulfilment 
of  his  promise  mustered  all  the  birds  together  in  the 
country  of  the  Himalayas.  All  manner  of  birds  came, 
mallards,  peacocks  and  all  other  birds;  and  they  flocked 
together  on  a  great  plateau  of  bare  rock.  Then  the  king 
sent  for  his  daughter  and  bade  her  go  and  choose  a 
husband  after  her  own  heart.  As  she  reviewed  the  crowd 
of  birds,  her  eye  lighted  on  the  peacock  with  his  neck  of 
jewelled  sheen  and  tail  of  varied  hue;  and  she  chose  him, 
saying,  "  Let  this  be  my  husband."  Then  the  assembly 
of  the  birds  went  up  to  the  peacock  and  said,  "Friend 
peacock,  this  princess,  in  choosing  her  husband  from 
among  all  these  birds,  has  fixed  her  choice  on  you." 

Carried  away  by  his  extreme  joy,  the  peacock  ex- 
claimed, "  Until  this  day  you  have  never  seen  how  active 
I  am  " ;  and  in  defiance  of  all  decency  in  the  midst  of  the 
assembly  he  spread  his  wings  and  began  to  dance ; — and 
in  dancing  he  exposed  himself. 

Filled  with  shame,  King  Golden  Mallard  said,  "This 
fellow  has  neither  modesty  within  his  heart  nor  decency 
in  his  outward  behaviour;  I  certainly  will  not  give  my 
daughter  to  one  so  shameless."  And  there  in  the  midst 
of  all  that  assembly  of  the  birds,  he  repeated  this  stanza : 

A  pleasing1  note  is  yours,  a  lovely  back, 

A  neck  in  hue  like  lapis  lazuli; 

A  fathom's  length  your  outstretched  feathers  reach. 

Withal,  your  dancing  loses  you  my  child. 

Right  in  the  face  of  the  whole  gathering  King  Royal 
Mallard  gave  his  daughter  to  a  young  mallard,  a  nephew 
of  his.  Covered  with  shame  at  the  loss  of  the  mallard 
princess,  the  peacock  rose  straight  up  from  the  place  and 


fled  away.    And  King  Golden  Mallard  too  went  back  to 
his  dwelling-place. 

Tib.  T.  XLVI.  The  Peacock  as  Bridegroom. 

The  story  of  Hippoclides  in  Hdt.  vi.  129.     Cf.  Benf.  EM.  §  98  ff.,  Jacobs  70, 
Hausrath.     Figured  on  the  Bharhut  Stupa,  pi.  xxvu.  11. 


Once  upon  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  king  of 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  a  quail,  and  lived  in  the 
forest  at  the  head  of  many  thousands  of  quails.  In  those 
days  a  fowler  who  caught  quails  came  to  that  place ;  and 
he  used  to  imitate  the  note  of  a  quail  till  he  saw  that  the 
birds  had  been  drawn  together,  when  he  flung  his  net 
over  them,  and  whipped  the  sides  of  the  net  together, 
so  as  to  get  them  all  huddled  up  in  a  heap.  Then  he 
crammed  them  into  his  basket,  and  going  home  sold 
his  prey  for  a  living. 

Now  one  day  the  Bodhisatta  said  to  those  quails,  "This 
fowler  is  making  havoc  among  our  kinsfolk.  I  have  a 
device  whereby  he  will  be  unable  to  catch  us.  Henceforth, 
the  very  moment  he  throws  the  net  over  you,  let  each  one 
put  his  head  through  a  mesh  and  then  all  of  you  together 
must  fly  away  with  the  net  to  such  place  as  you  please, 
and  there  let  it  down  on  a  thorn-brake ;  this  done,  we 
will  all  escape  from  our  several  meshes."  "Very  good," 
said  they  all  in  ready  agreement. 

On  the  morrow,  when  the  net  was  cast  over  them,  they 
did  just  as  the  Bodhisatta  had  told  them: — they  lifted 
up  the  net,  and  let  it  down  on  a  thorn-brake,  escaping 
themselves  from  underneath.  While  the  fowler  was  still 
disentangling  his  net,  evening  came  on ;  and  he  went  away 
empty-handed.  On  the  morrow  and  following  days  the 


quails  played  the  same  trick.  So  that  it  became  the 
regular  thing  for  the  fowler  to  be  engaged  till  sunset 
disentangling  his  net,  and  then  to  betake  himself  home 
empty-handed.  Accordingly  his  wife  grew  angry  and 
said,  "Day  by  day  you  return  empty-handed;  I  suppose 
you've  got  a  second  establishment  to  keep  up  elsewhere." 

"No,  my  dear,"  said  the  fowler;  "I've  no  second  estab- 
lishment to  keep  up.  The  fact  is  those  quails  have  come 
to  work  together  now.  The  moment  my  net  is  over  them, 
off  they  fly  with  it  and  escape,  leaving  it  on  a  thorn-brake. 
Still,  they  won't  live  in  unity  always.  Don't  you  bother 
yourself;  as  soon  as  they  start  bickering  among  them- 
selves, I  shall  bag  the  lot,  and  that  will  bring  a  smile  to 
your  face  to  see."  And  so  saying,  he  repeated  this  stanza 
to  his  wife : 

While  concord  reigns,  the  birds  bear  off  the  net. 
When  quarrels  rise,  they'll  fall  a  prey  to  me. 

Not  long  after  this,  one  of  the  quails,  in  alighting 
on  their  feeding-ground,  trod  by  accident  on  another's 
head.  "  Who  trod  on  my  head  ? "  angrily  cried  this  latter. 
"  I  did ;  but  I  didn't  mean  to.  Don't  be  angry,"  said  the 
first  quail.  But  notwithstanding  this  answer,  the  other 
remained  as  angry  as  before.  Continuing  to  answer  one 
another,  they  began  to  bandy  taunts,  saying,  "I  suppose 
it  is  you  single-handed  who  lift  up  the  net."  As  they 
wrangled  thus  writh  one  another,  the  Bodhisatta  thought 
to  himself,  "  There's  no  safety  with  one  who  is  quarrelsome. 
The  time  has  come  when  they  will  no  longer  lift  up  the 
net,  and  thereby  they  will  come  to  great  destruction. 
The  fowler  will  get  his  opportunity.  I  can  stay  here  no 
longer."  And  thereupon  he  with  his  following  went  else- 

P.   &  T.  3 


Sure  enough  the  fowler  came  back  again  a  few  days 
later,  and  first  collecting  them  together  by  imitating  the 
note  of  a  quail,  flung  his  net  over  them.  Then  said  one 
quail,  "  They  say  when  you  were  at  work  lifting  the  net, 
the  hair  of  your  head  fell  off.  Now's  your  time ;  lift  away." 
The  other  rejoined,  "When  you  were  lifting  the  net,  they 
say  both  your  wings  moulted.  Now's  your  time;  lift 

But  whilst  they  were  each  inviting  the  other  to  lift 
the  net,  the  fowler  himself  lifted  the  net  for  them  and 
crammed  them  in  a  heap  into  his  basket  and  bore  them 
off'  home,  so  that  his  wife's  face  was  wreathed  with  smiles. 

Julien  41  is  closest  to  the  jataka.  The  hunter  follows  the  birds  flying  away  with 
the  net  until  nightfall,  when  they  alight  in  different  directions. 

Frame  story  of  P.  n.,  Hitop.  i.,  Som.  LXI.  (ii.  48),  K.  D  (Syr.)  IL,  (Arab.)  vn.,  but  in 
this  the  birds  are  set  free  by  a  mouse  which  gnaws  the  net  ( =  Babr.  107,  Mouse  and 
Lion  in  net). 

In  Mbh.  xn.  138,  Som.  xxxin.  100  (i.  296),  K.  D.  (Syr.)  ch.  v.,  a  mouse  frees  a  cat, 
but  waits  until  the  hunter  is  near,  so  that  the  cat  has  no  time  to  do  harm.  In  the 
variant  P.  (T.)  in.  11,  (B.)  I.,  Suppl.  v.  the  birds  escape  by  feigning  death.  By  the 
same  device  a  deer  escapes  in  Jat.  16.  The  rest  of  the  frame  story  of  P.  (crow, 
mouse,  and  antelope)  is  Jat.  206,  p.  171. 


Once  on  a  time,  hard  by  a  great  banyan-tree  on  the 
slopes  of  the  Himalayas,  there  dwelt  three  friends, — a 
partridge,  a  monkey,  and  an  elephant.  And  they  came 
to  lack  respect  and  subordination  one  to  another,  and 
had  no  ordering  of  their  common  life.  And  the  thought 
came  to  them  that  it  was  not  seemly  for  them  to  live  in 
this  way,  and  that  they  ought  to  find  out  which  of  their 
number  was  the  senior  and  to  honour  him. 

As  they  were  engaged  thinking  which  was  the  oldest, 
one  day  an  idea  struck  them.  Said  the  partridge  and 


the  monkey  to  the  elephant  as  they  all  three  sat  together 
at  the  foot  of  that  banyan-tree,  "Friend  elephant,  how 
big  was  this  banyan  when  you  remember  it  first  ? "  Said 
the  elephant,  "  When  I  was  a  baby,  this  banyan  was  a 
mere  bush,  over  which  I  used  to  walk;  and  as  I  stood 
astride  of  it,  its  topmost  branches  used  just  to  reach  up 
to  my  belly.  IVe  known  the  tree  since  it  was  a  mere 

Next  the  monkey  was  asked  the  same  question  by  the 
other  two;  and  he  replied,  "My  friends,  when  I  was  a 
youngling,  I  had  only  to  stretch  out  my  neck  as  I  sat  on 
the  ground,  and  I  ceuld  eat  the  topmost  sprouts  of  this 
banyan.  So  I've  known  this  banyan  since  it  was  very  tiny." 

Then  the  partridge  was  asked  the  same  question  by 
the  two  others ;  and  he  said,  "  Friends,  of  old  there  was 
a  great  banyan-tree  at  such  and  such  a  spot;  I  ate  its 
seeds,  and  voided  them  here;  that  was  the  origin  of  this 
tree.  Therefore,  I  have  knowledge  of  this  tree  from 
before  it  was  born,  and  am  older  than  the  pair  of  you." 

Hereupon  the  monkey  and  the  elephant  said  to  the 
sage  partridge,  "  Friend,  you  are  the  oldest.  Henceforth 
vou  shall  have  from  us  acts  of  honour  and  veneration, 


marks  of  obeisance  and  homage,  respect  of  word  and 
deed,  salutation,  and  all  due  homage;  and  we  will  follow 
your  counsels.  You  for  your  part  henceforth  will  please 
impart  such  counsel  as  we  need." 

Thenceforth  the  partridge  gave  them  counsel,  and 
established  them  in  the  Commandments,  which  he  also 
undertook  himself  to  keep.  Being  thus  established  in 
the  Commandments,  and  becoming  respectful  and  sub- 
ordinate among  themselves,  with  proper  ordering  of  their 
common  life,  these  three  made  themselves  sure  of  re-birth 
in  heaven  at  this  life's  close. 



Vinaya  n.  p.  161  (S.B.E.  xx.  p.  193).  Tib.  T.  xxiv.,  Julien  77.  In  the  Rdma- 
yana,  Uttarakanda,  ch.  72  (transl.  by  M.  N.  Dutt),  Rama  decides  a  dispute  between 
a  vulture  and  an  owl  as  to  the  ownership  of  a  nest.  The  vulture  claims  to  have  been 
living  in  the  nest  since  mankind  was  first  born.  The  owl  says  that  the  nest  was 
made  still  earlier,  when  the  earth  was  first  adorned  with  trees.  C.  Gardner  in 
Folklore  J.  iv.  29  ff.  gives  a  Mongolian  tale  of  a  wolf  and  a  fox,  who  find  a  skin  of 
fat,  and  decide  that  the  elder  shall  eat  it.  The  wolf  says  that  when  he  was  a 
youngster  Mt  Sumeru  was  but  a  clot  of  earth  in  a  bog.  The  fox  weeps,  because  he 
had  two  cubs,  and  the  younger  was  just  the  age  of  the  wolf.  Cf.  Clouston,  ii.  99  ff., 
Cowell,  Y  Gymmrodar,  1882,  p.  169.  Hausrath  compares  the  Aesopic  fable  of  the 
crested  lark,  who  was  older  than  all  beings,  even  than  the  earth,  and  when  her 
father  died,  having  no  other  place  for  a  grave,  buried  him  in  her  own  head. 
Aristoph.,  Birds,  471  ff.,  cf.  Theocr.,  Id.  vn.  23.  Aelian,  De  An.  Nat.  xvi.  5,  in 
reference  to  this  gives  an  Indian  one.  An  Indian  king  had  three  sons,  the  two  elder 
of  whom  persecute  their  parents.  The  parents  flee  with  the  youngest  son,  who  at 
their  death  buries  them  in  himself,  cutting  open  his  head  with  a  sword.  The  Sun  in 
admiration  turns  him  into  a  hoopoe.  Both  these  tales  give  an  explanation  of  the 
bird's  crest.  They  appear  to  have  little  bearing  on  the  question  of  the  '  priority '  of 
Greek  fable. 


Once  on  a  time  the  Bodhisatta  came  to  life  in  a  certain 
forest-haunt  as  the  divinity  of  a  tree  which  stood  near  a 
certain  lotus-pond.  In  those  days  the  water  used  every 
summer  to  fall  very  low  in  a  certain  pond,  not  very  big, 
-which  was  plentifully  stocked  with  fish.  Catching  sight 
of  these  fish,  a  certain  crane  said  to  himself,  "  I  must  find 
a  way  to  cajole  and  eat  these  fish."  So  he  went  and  sat 
down  in  deep  thought  by  the  side  of  the  water. 

Now  when  the  fishes  caught  sight  of  him,  they  said, 
"  Of  what  are  you  thinking,  my  lord,  as  you  sit  there  ? " 
"I  am  thinking  about  you,"  was  the  reply.  "And  what 
is  your  lordship  thinking  about  us  ? "  "  The  water  in  this 
pool  being  low,  food  scarce,  and  the  heat  intense, — I  was 
wondering  to  myself,  as  I  sat  here,  what  in  the  world  you 
fishes  would  do."  "  And  what  are  we  to  do,  my  lord  ? '' 
"  Well,  if  you'll  take  my  advice,  I  will  take  you  up  one  by 


one  in  my  beak,  and  carry  you  all  off  to  a  fine  large  pool 
covered  with  the  five  varieties  of  lotuses,  and  there  put 
you  down."  "My  lord,"  said  they,  "no  crane  ever  took 
the  slightest  thought  for  fishes  since  the  world  began. 
Your  desire  is  to  eat  us  one  by  one."  "  No ;  I  will  not  eat 
you  while  you  trust  me,"  said  the  crane.  "  If  you  don't 
take  my  word  that  there  is  such  a  pond,  send  one  of  your 
number  to  go  with  me  and  see  for  himself."  Believing 
the  crane,  the  fish  presented  to  him  a  great  big  fish  (blind 
of  one  eye,  by  the  way),  who  they  thought  would  be  a 
match  for  the  crane  whether  afloat  or  ashore;  and  they 
said,  "  Here's  the  one  to  go  with  you." 

The  crane  took  the  fish  off*  and  put  him  in  the  pool, 
and  after  shewing  him  the  whole  extent  of  it,  brought  him 
back  again  and  put  him  in  along  with  the  other  fish  in  his 
old  pond.  And  he  held  forth  to  them  on  the  charms  of 
the  newr  pool. 

After  hearing  this  report,  they  grew  eager  to  go  there, 
and  said  to  the  crane,  "  Very  good,  my  lord;  please  take 

us  across." 

First  of  all,  the  crane  took  that  big  one-eyed  fish  again 
and  carried  him  off  to  the  edge  of  the  pool,  so  that  he 
could  see  the  water,  but  actuallv  alighted  in  a  Varana-tree 

j  •/  ***r 

which  grew  on  the  bank.  Dashing  the  fish  down  in  a  fork 
of  the  tree,  he  pecked  it  to  death, — after  wrhich  he  picked 
him  clean  and  let  the  bones  fall  at  the  foot  of  the  tree. 
Then  back  he  went  and  said,  "  I've  thrown  him  in ;  who's 
the  next  ? "  And  so  he  took  the  fish  one  by  one,  and  ate 
them  all,  till  at  last  when  he  came  back,  he  could  not  find 
another  left.  But  there  was  still  a  crab  remaining  in  the 
pond;  so  the  crane,  who  wanted  to  eat  him  up  too,  said, 
"  Mister  crab,  I've  taken  all  those  fishes  away  and  turned 
them  into  a  fine  large  pool  covered  all  over  with  lotuses. 


Come  along;  I'll  take  you  too."  "How  will  you  carry 
me  across?"  said  the  crab.  "Why,  in  my  beak,  to  be 
sure,"  said  the  crane.  "  Ah,  but  you  might  drop  me  like 
that,"  said  the  crab;  "I  won't  go  with  you."  "Don't  be 
frightened;  I'll  keep  tight  hold  of  you  all  the  way." 
Thought  the  crab  to  himself,  "He  hasn't  put  the  fish  in 
the  pool.  But,  if  he  would  really  put  me  in,  that  would 
be  capital.  If  he  does  not, — why,  I'll  nip  his  head  off"  and 
kill  him."  So  he  spoke  thus  to  the  crane,  "  You'd  never  be 
able  to  hold  me  tight  enough,  friend  crane;  whereas  we 
crabs  have  got  an  astonishingly  tight  grip.  If  I  might 
take  hold  of  your  neck  with  my  claws,  I  could  hold  it 
tight  and  then  would  go  along  with  you." 

Not  suspecting  that  the  crab  wanted  to  trick  him,  the 
crane  gave  his  assent.  With  his  claws  the  crab  gripped 
hold  of  the  crane's  neck  as  with  the  pincers  of  a  smith, 
and  said,  "Now  you  can  start."  The  crane  took  him 
and  shewed  him  the  pool  first,  and  then  started  oft'  for 
the  tree. 

"The  pool  lies  this  way,  uncle,"  said  the  crab;  "but 
you're  taking  me  the  other  way."  "  Very  much  your  dear 
uncle  am  I!"  said  the  crane;  "and  very  much  my  nephew 
are  you!  I  suppose  you  thought  me  your  slave  to  lift  you 
up  and  carry  you  about !  Just  cast  your  eye  on  that  heap 
of  bones  at  the  foot  of  the  tree;  as  I  ate  up  all  those  fish, 
so  I  will  eat  you  too."  Said  the  crab,  "It  was  through 
their  own  folly  that  those  fish  were  eaten  by  you;  but  I 
shan't  give  you  the  chance  of  eating  me.  No;  what  I 
shall  do,  is  to  kill  you.  For^  you,  fool  that  you  were,  did 
not  see  that  I  was  tricking  you.  If  we  die,  we  will  both 
die  together;  I'll  chop  your  head  clean  oft'."  And  so 
saying  he  gripped  the  crane's  weazand  with  his  claws,  as 
with  pincers.  With  his  mouth  wide  open,  and  tears 


streaming  from  his  eyes,  the  crane,  trembling  for  his  life, 
said,  "Lord,  indeed  I  will  not  eat  you!  Spare  my  life!" 

"  Well,  then,  just  step  down  to  the  pool  and  put  me 
in,"  said  the  crab.  Then  the  crane  turned  back  and 
stepped  down  as  directed  to  the  pool,  and  placed  the 
crab  on  the  mud,  at  the  water-edge.  But  the  crab,  before 
entering  the  water,  nipped  off  the  crane's  head  as  deftly 
as  if  he  were  cutting  a  lotus  stalk  with  a  knife. 

The  divinity  who  dwelt  in  the  tree,  marking  this 
wonderful  thing,  made  the  whole  forest  ring  with  applause 
repeating  this  stanza  in  sweet  tones : 

Guile  profits  not  your  very  guileful  folk. 

Mark  what  the  guileful  crane  got  from  the  crab! 

P.  (T.)  i.  5,  Som.  LX.  78  (ii.  31).  K.  D.  (Syr.)  i.  5,  (Arab.)  v.  A  mutilated  version 
in  Jat.  236.  In  Aesop  (Halm  419,  Babr.  115)  an  eagle  takes  a  tortoise  up  to  teach  it 
to  fly.  In  Phaedr.  n.  6  in  order  to  kill  it.  Cf.  Jat.  215,  p.  178. 


Once  on  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  came  to  life  again  as  a  landowner. 
Another  landowner,  a  friend  of  his,  was  an  old  man  him- 
self, but  had  a  young  wife  who  had  borne  him  a  son  and 
heir.  Said  the  old  man  to  himself,  "As  soon  as  I  am 
dead,  this  girl,  being  so  young  as  she  is,  will  marry  heaven 
knows  whom,  and  spend  all  my  money,  instead  of  handing 
it  over  to  my  son.  Wouldn't  it  be  my  best  course  to  bury 
my  money  safely  in  the  ground  ? " 

So,  in  the  company  of  a  household  slave  of  his  named 
Nanda,  he  went  to  the  forest  and  buried  his  riches  at  a 
certain  spot,  saying  to  the  slave,  "  My  good  Nanda,  reveal 
this  treasure  to  my  son  after  I  am  gone,  and  don't  let  the 
wood  be  sold." 


After  giving  this  injunction  to  his  slave,  the  old  man 
died.  In  due  course  the  son  grew  up,  and  his  mother 
said  to  him,  "My  son,  your  father,  in  the  company  of 
Xanda,  buried  his  money.  Get  it  back  and  look  after  the 
property  of  the  family."  So  one  day  he  said  to  Xanda, 
"Uncle,  is  there  any  treasure  which  my  father  buried?" 
"Yes,  my  lord."  "Where  is  it  buried?"  "In  the  forest, 
my  lord."  "  Well,  then,  let  us  go  there."  And  he  took  a 
spade  and  a  basket,  and  going  to  the  scene,  said  to 
Xanda,  "Well,  uncle,  where's  the  money?"  But  by  the 
time  Xanda  had  got  up  to  the  treasure  and  was  standing 
right  over  it,  he  was  so  puffed  up  by  the  money  that  he 
abused  his  master,  saying,  "  You  servant  of  a  slave-wench's 
son!  how  should  you  have  any  money  here?" 

The  young  gentleman,  pretending  not  to  have  heard 
this  insolence,  simply  said,  "  Let  us  be  going  then,"  and 
took  che  slave  back  home  with  him.  Two  or  three  days 
later,  he  returned  to  the  place ;  but  again  Xanda  abused 
him,  as  before.  Without  any  abusive  rejoinder,  the  young 
gentleman  came  back  and  turned  the  matter  over  in  his 
mind.  Thought  he  to  himself,  "At  starting,  this  slave 
always  means  to  reveal  where  the  money  is;  but  no  sooner 
does  he  get  there,  than  he  falls  to  abusing  me.  The 
reason  of  this  I  do  not  see ;  but  I  could  find  out,  if  I 
were  to  ask  my  father's  old  friend,  the  landowner."  So 
he  went  to  the  Bodhisatta,  and  laying  the  whole  business 
before  him,  asked  his  friend  what  was  the  real  reason  of 
such  behaviour. 

Said  the  Bodhisatta,  "  The  spot  at  which  Xanda  stands 
to  abuse  you,  my  friend,  is  the  place  where  your  father's 
money  is  buried.  Therefore,  as  soon  as  he  starts  abusing 
you  again,  say  to  him,  'Whom  are  you  talking  to,  you 
slave  ? '  Pull  him  from  his  pe  ch,  take  the  spade,  dig 


down,  remove  your  family  treasure,  and  make  the  slave 
carry  it  home  for  you."  And  so  saying,  he  repeated  this 
stanza : 

Methinks  the  gold  and  jewels  buried  lie 
Where  Nanda,  low-born  slave,  so  loudly  bawls ! 

Taking  a  respectful  leave  of  the  Bodhisatta,  the  young 
gentleman  went  home,  and  taking  Nanda  went  to  the  spot 
where  the  money  was  buried.  Faithfully  following  the 
advice  he  had  received,  he  brought  the  money  away  and 
looked  after  the  family  property.  He  remained  steadfast 
in  the  Bodhisatta's  counsels,  and  after  a  life  spent  in 
charity  and  other  good  works  he  passed  away  to  fare 
according  to  his  deserts. 

On  the  strengthening  power  of  gold  cf.  Jat.  257,  p.  210,  where  the  partridge  sings 
pleasantly  on  an  antheap,  because  there  is  a  treasure  beneath.  In  the  Sithhdsana- 
dmtrimsikd  (Weber,  Ind.  Stud.  xv.  266)  a  brahmin  while  in  a  certain  place  in  his 
field  is  liberal,  and  in  other  places  miserly.  The  golden  throne  of  Vikrama  is  found 
beneath.  In  P.  (T.)  n.  1  a  mouse  feels  strong  because  he  has  a  buried  treasure. 


Once  on  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  a  pigeon.  Now  the 
Benares  folk  of  those  days,  as  an  act  of  goodness,  used 
to  hang  up  straw-baskets  in  divers  places  for  the  shelter 
and  comfort  of  the  birds ;  and  the  cook  of  the  gildmaster 
of  Benares  hung  up  one  of  these  baskets  in  his  kitchen. 
In  this  basket  the  Bodhisatta  took  up  his  abode,  sallying 
out  at  daybreak  in  quest  of  food,  and  returning  home  in 
the  evening;  and  so  he  lived  his  life. 

But  one  day  a  crow,  flying  over  the  kitchen,  snuffed 
up  the  goodly  savour  from  the  salt  and  fresh  fish  and 
meat  there,  and  was  filled  with  longing  to  taste  it.  Casting 
about  how  to  have  his  will,  he  perched  hard  by,  and  at 


evening  saw  the  Bodhisatta  come  home  and  go  into  the 
kitchen.  "Ah!"  thought  he,  "I  can  manage  it  through 
the  pigeon." 

So  back  he  came  next  day  at  dawn,  and,  when  the 
Bodhisatta  sallied  out  in  quest  of  food,  kept  following 
him  about  from  place  to  place  like  his  shadow.  So  the 
Bodhisatta  said,  "  Why  do  you  keep  with  me,  friend  ? " 

"My  lord,"  answered  the  crow,  "your  demeanour  has 
won  my  admiration ;  and  henceforth  it  is  my  wish  to 
follow  you."  "But  your  kind  of  food  and  mine,  friend, 
are  not  the  same,"  said  the  Bodhisatta ;  "  you  will  be  hard 
put  to  it  if  you  attach  yourself  to  me."  "  My  lord,"  said 
the  crow,  "when  you  are  seeking  your  food,  I  will  feed 
too,  by  your  side."  "  So  be  it,  then,"  said  the  Bodhisatta ; 
"  only  you  must  be  earnest."  And  with  this  admonition 
to  the  crow,  the  Bodhisatta  ranged  about  pecking  up 
grass-seeds;  whilst  the  other  went  about  turning  over 
cowdung  and  picking  out  the  insects  underneath  till  he 
had  got  his  fill.  Then  back  he  came  to  the  Bodhisatta 
and  remarked,  "My  lord,  you  give  too  much  time  to 
eating;  excess  therein  should  be  shunned." 

And  when  the  Bodhisatta  had  fed  and  reached  home 
again  at  evening,  in  flew  the  crow  with  him  into  the 

"Why,  our  bird  has  brought  another  home  with  him"; 
exclaimed  the  cook,  and  hung  up  a  second  basket  for  the 
crow.  And  from  that  time  onward  the  two  birds  dwelt 
together  in  the  kitchen. 

Now  one  day  the  gildmaster  had  in  a  store  of  fish 
which  the  cook  hung  up  about  the  kitchen.  Filled  with 
greedy  longing  at  the  sight,  the  crow  made  up  his  mind 
to  stay  at  home  next  day  and  treat  himself  to  this  ex- 
cellent fare. 


So  all  the  night  long  he  lay  groaning  away ;  and  next 
day,  when  the  Bodhisatta  was  starting  in  search  of  food, 
and  cried,  "Come  along,  friend  crow,"  the  crow  replied, 
"Go  without  me,  my  lord;  for  I  have  a  pain  in  my 
stomach."  "Friend,"  answered  the  Bodhisatta,  "I  never 
heard  of  crows  having  pains  in  their  stomachs  before. 
True,  crows  feel  faint  in  each  of  the  three  night-watches; 
but  if  they  eat  a  lamp-wick,  their  hunger  is  appeased  for 
the  moment.  You  must  be  hankering  after  the  fish  in 
the  kitchen  here.  Come  now,  man's  food  will  not  agree 
with  you.  Do  not  give  way  like  this,  but  come  and  seek 
your  food  with  me."  "Indeed,  I  am  not  able,  my  lord," 
said  the  crow.  "  Well,  your  own  conduct  will  shew,"  said 
the  Bodhisatta.  "  Only  fall  not  a  prey  to  greed,  but  stand 
steadfast."  And  with  this  exhortation,  away  he  flew  to 
find  his  daily  food. 

The  cook  took  several  kinds  of  fish,  and  dressed  some 
one  way,  some  another.  Then  lifting  the  lids  off  his 
saucepans  a  little  to  let  the  steam  out,  he  put  a  colander 
on  the  top  of  one  and  went  outside  the  door,  where  he 
stood  wiping  the  sweat  from  his  brow.  Just  at  that 
moment  out  popped  the  crow's  head  from  the  basket. 
A  glance  told  him  that  the  cook  was  away,  and,  "  Now  or 
never,"  thought  he,  "is  my  time.  The  only  question  is 
shall  I  choose  minced  meat  or  a  big  lump  ? "  Arguing 
that  it  takes  a  long  time  to  make  a  full  meal  of  minced 
meat,  he  resolved  to  take  a  large  piece  of  fish  and  sit  and 
eat  it  in  his  basket.  So  out  he  flew  and  alighted  on  the 
colander.  "  Click  "  went  the  colander. 

"  What  can  that  be  ? "  said  the  cook,  running  in  on 
hearing  the  noise.  Seeing  the  crow,  he  cried,  "Oh,  there's 
that  rascally  crow  wanting  to  eat  my  master's  dinner. 
I  have  to  work  for  my  master,  not  for  that  rascal !  What's 


he  to  me,  I  should  like  to  know  ? "  So,  first  shutting  the 
door,  he  caught  the  crow  and  plucked  every  feather  off 
his  body.  Then,  he  pounded  up  ginger  with  salt  and 
cumin,  and  mixed  in  sour  butter-milk — finally  sousing  the 
crow  in  the  pickle  and  flinging  him  back  into  his  basket. 
And  there  the  crow  lay  groaning,  overcome  by  the  agony 
of  his  pain. 

At  evening  the  Bodhisatta  came  back,  and  saw  the 
wretched  plight  of  the  crow.  "Ah !  greedy  crow,"  he 
exclaimed,  "  you  would  not  heed  my  words,  and  now  your 
own  greed  has  worked  you  woe."  So  saying,  he  repeated 
this  stanza : 

The  headstrong:  man  who,  when  exhorted,  pays 
No  heed  to  friends  who  kindly  counsel  give, 
Shall  surely  perish,  like  the  greedy  crow, 
Who  laughed  to  scorn  the  pigeon's  warning  words. 

Then,  exclaiming  "  I  too  can  no  longer  dwell  here,"  the 
Bodhisatta  flew  away.  But  the  crow  died  there  and  then, 
and  the  cook  flung  him,  basket  and  all,  on  the  dust-heap. 

Variant  of  Jat.  274,  375,  395. 


Once  on  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  gained  his  livelihood  as  a  trader. 
In  those  days  in  a  border-village  in  Kasi  there  dwelt  a 
number  of  carpenters.  And  it  chanced  that  one  of  them, 
a  bald  grey-haired  man,  was  planing  away  at  some  wood, 
with  his  head  glistening  like  a  copper  bowl,  when  a 
mosquito  settled  on  his  scalp  and  stung  him  with  its 
dart-like  sting. 

Said  the  carpenter  to  his  son,  who  was  seated  hard  by, 
— "  My  boy,  there's  a  mosquito  stinging  me  on  the  head ; 


do  drive  it  away."  "  Hold  still  then,  father,"  said  the  son ; 
"  one  blow  will  settle  it." 

(At  that  very  time  the  Bodhisatta  had  reached  that 
village  in  the  way  of  trade,  and  was  sitting  in  the  car- 
penter's shop.) 

"Rid  me  of  it,"  said  the  father.  "All  right,  father," 
answered  the  son,  who  was  behind  the  old  man's  back, 
and,  raising  a  sharp  axe  on  high  with  intent  to  kill  only 
the  mosquito,  he  cleft — his  father's  head  in  twain.  So 
the  old  man  fell  dead  on  the  spot. 

Thought  the  Bodhisatta,  who  had  been  an  eye-witness 
of  the  whole  scene, — "Better  than  such  a  friend  is  an 
enemy  with  sense,  whom  fear  of  men's  vengeance  will 
deter  from  killing  a  man."  And  he  recited  these  lines: 

Sense-lacking  friends  are  worse  than  foes  with  sense; 
Witness  the  son  that  sought  the  gnat  to  slay, 
But  cleft,  poor  fool,  his  father's  skull  in  twain. 

So  saying,  the  Bodhisatta  rose  up  and  departed, 
passing  away  in  after  days  to  fare  according  to  his  deserts. 
And  as  for  the  carpenter,  his  body  was  buried  by  his 

A  variant  of  Jat.  45,  where  a  maidservant  strikes  her  mother's  head  with  a  pestle. 
In  P.  (B.)  i.,  Suppl.  viii.,  story  12,  a  pet  monkey  strikes  a  bee  from  the  head  of  the 
king  with  a  sword.  It  is  preceded  by  a  tale  illustrating  the  superiority  of  a  sensible 
enemy,  as  mentioned  in  the  verse  of  the  jataka  and  P.  Of.  Jacobs  64,  Clouston,  i.  55. 
The  same  moral  is  given  in  Mbh.  xn.  ch.  138,  45. 


Once  on  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  king  of 
Benares,  a  festival  was  proclaimed  in  the  city;  and  at 
the  first  summoning  notes  of  the  festal  drum  out  poured 
the  townsfolk  to  keep  holiday. 


Now  in  those  days,  a  tribe  of  monkeys  was  living  in 
the  king's  pleasaunce;  and  the  king's  gardener  thought 
to  himself,  "They're  holiday-making  up  in  the  city.  I'll 
get  the  monkeys  to  do  the  watering  for  me,  and  be  off 
to  enjoy  myself  with  the  rest."  So  saying,  he  went  to  the 
king  of  the  monkeys,  and,  first  dwelling  on  the  benefits 
his  majesty  and  his  subjects  enjoyed  from  residence  in 
the  pleasaunce  in  the  way  of  flowers  and  fruit  and 
young  shoots  to  eat,  ended  by  saying,  "To-day  there's 
holiday-making  up  in  the  city,  and  I'm  off  to  enjoy 
myself.  Couldn't  you  water  the  young  trees  while  I'm 
away  ? " 

"Oh!  yes,"  said  the  monkey. 

"Only  mind  you  do,"  said  the  gardener;  and  off  he 
went,  giving  the  monkeys  the  water-skins  and  wooden 
watering-pots  to  do  the  work  with. 

Then  the  monkeys  took  the  water-skins  and  watering- 
pots,  and  fell  to  watering  the  young  trees.  "  But  we  must 
mind  not  to  waste  the  water,"  observed  their  king;  "as 
you  water,  first  pull  each  young  tree  up  and  look  at  the 
size  of  its  roots.  Then  give  plenty  of  water  to  those  whose 
roots  strike  deep,  but  only  a  little  to  those  with  tiny  roots. 
When  this  water  is  all  gone,  we  shall  be  hard  put  to  it  to 
get  more." 

"  To  be  sure,"  said  the  other  monkeys,  and  did  as  he 
bade  them. 

At  this  juncture  a  certain  wise  man,  seeing  the  monkeys 
thus  engaged,  asked  them  why  they  pulled  up  tree  after 
tree  and  watered  them  according  to  the  size  of  their 

"Because  such  are  our  king's  commands,"  answered 
the  monkeys. 

Their  reply  moved  the  wise  man  to  reflect  how,  with 


(Jilt  a  lid  4(!,  yv.    45) 


every  desire  to  do  good,  the  ignorant  and  foolish  only 
succeed  in  doing  harm.     And  he  recited  this  stanza: 

'Tis  knowledge  crowns  endeavour  with  success, 
For  fools  are  thwarted  by  their  foolishness, 
— Witness  the  ape  that  killed  the  garden  trees. 

With  this  rebuke  to  the  king  of  the  monkeys,  the  wise 
man  departed  with  his  followers  from  the  pleasaunce. 

Variant  of  Jat.  268,  in  which  the  moral  is  the  folly  of  the  one  who  gave  such 
orders  to  the  monkeys.     Illustrated  on  the  Bharhut  Stupa,  pi.  XLV.  5. 


Once  on  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  there  was  a  brahmin  in  a  village  who  knew  the 
charm  called  Vedabbha.  Now  this  charm,  so  they  say, 
was  precious  beyond  all  price.  For,  if  at  a  certain  con- 
junction of  the  planets  the  charm  was  repeated  and  the 
gaze  bent  upwards  to  the  skies,  straightway  from  the 
heavens  there  rained  the  Seven  Things  of  Price, — gold, 
silver,  pearl,  coral,  catseye,  ruby,  and  diamond. 

In  those  days  the  Bodhisatta  was  a  pupil  of  this  brah- 
min; and  one  day  his  master  left  the  village  on  some 
business  or  other,  and  came  with  the  Bodhisatta  to  the 
country  of  Ceti. 

In  a  forest  by  the  way  dwelt  five  hundred  robbers — 
known  as  "the  Despatchers"  -who  made  the  way  im- 
passable. And  these  caught  the  Bodhisatta  and  the 
Vedabbha-brahmin.  (Why,  you  ask,  were  they  called  the 
Despatchers? — Well,  the  story  goes  that  of  every  two 
prisoners  they  made  they  used  to  despatch  one  to  fetch 
the  ransom;  and  that's  why  they  were  called  the  De- 
spatchers. If  they  captured  a  father  and  a  son,  they  told 


the  father  to  go  for  the  ransom  to  free  his  son;  if  they 
caught  a  mother  and  her  daughter,  they  sent  the  mother 
for  the  money;  if  they  caught  two  brothers,  they  let  the 
elder  go;  and  so  too,  if  they  caught  a  teacher  and 
his  pupil,  it  was  the  pupil  they  set  free.  In  this  case, 
therefore,  they  kept  the  Vedabbha-brahmin,  and  sent  the 
Bodhisatta  for  the  ransom.)  And  the  Bodhisatta  said 
with  a  bow  to  his  master,  "  In  a  day  or  two  I  shall  surely 
come  back;  have  no  fear;  only  fail  not  to  do  as  I  shall 
say.  To-day  will  come  to  pass  the  conjunction  of  the 
planets  which  brings  about  the  rain  of  the  Things  of 
Price.  Take  heed  lest,  yielding  to  this  mishap,  you  repeat 
the  charm  and  call  down  the  precious  shower.  For,  if 
you  do,  calamity  will  certainly  befall  both  you  and  this 
band  of  robbers."  With  this  warning  to  his  master,  the 
Bodhisatta  went  his  way  in  quest  of  the  ransom. 

At  sunset  the  robbers  bound  the  brahmin  and  laid 
him  by  the  heels.  Just  at  this  moment  the  full  moon 
rose  over  the  eastern  horizon,  and  the  brahmin,  studying 
the  heavens,  knew  that  the  great  conjunction  was  taking 
place.  "  Why,"  thought  he,  "  should  I  suffer  this  misery  ? 
By  repeating  the  charm  I  will  call  down  the  precious  rain, 
pay  the  robbers  the  ransom,  and  go  free."  So  he  called 
out  to  the  robbers,  "Friends,  why  do  you  take  me  a 
prisoner?"  To  get  a  ransom,  reverend  sir,"  said  they. 
"Well,  if  that  is  all  you  want,"  said  the  brahmin,  "make 
haste  and  untie  me;  have  my  head  bathed,  and  new 
clothes  put  on  me;  and  let  me  be  perfumed  and  decked 
with  flowers.  Then  leave  me  to  mvself."  The  robbers 


did  as  he  bade  them.  And  the  brahmin,  marking  the 
conjunction  of  the  planets,  repeated  his  charm  with  eyes 
uplifted  to  the  heavens.  Forthwith  the  Things  of  Price 
poured  down  from  the  skies!  The  robbers  picked  them 


all  up,  wrapping  their  booty  into  bundles  with  their  cloaks. 
Then  with  their  brethren  they  marched  away;  and  the 
brahmin  followed  in  the  rear.  But,  as  luck  would  have 
it,  the  party  was  captured  by  a  second  band  of  five 
hundred  robbers !  "  Why  do  you  seize  us  ? "  said  the  first 
to  the  second  band.  "For  booty,"  was  the  answer.  "If 
booty  is  what  you  want,  seize  on  that  brahmin,  who  by 
simply  gazing  up  at  the  skies  brought  down  riches  as 
rain.  It  was  he  who  gave  us  all  that  we  have  got."  So 
the  second  band  of  robbers  let  the  first  band  go,  and 
seized  on  the  brahmin,  crying,  "  Give  us  riches  too ! "  "  It 
would  give  me  great  pleasure,"  said  the  brahmin ;  "  but  it 
will  be  a  year  before  the  requisite  conjunction  of  the 
planets  takes  place  again.  If  you  will  only  be  so  good 
as  to  wait  till  then,  I  will  invoke  the  precious  shower  for 


"Rascally  brahmin!"  cried  the  angry  robbers,  "you 
made  the  other  band  rich  off-hand,  but  want  us  to  wait 
a  whole  year!"  And  they  cut  him  in  two  with  a  sharp 
sword,  and  flung  his  body  in  the  middle  of  the  road. 
Then  hurrying  after  the  first  band  of  robbers,  they  killed 
every  man  of  them  too  in  hand-to-hand  fight,  and  seized 
the  booty.  Next,  they  divided  into  two  companies  and 
fought  among  themselves,  company  against  company,  till 
two  hundred  and  fifty  men  were  slain.  And  so  they  went 
on  killing  one  another,  till  only  two  were  left  alive.  Thus 
did  those  thousand  men  come  to  destruction. 

Now,  when  the  two  survivors  had  managed  to  carry 
off  the  treasure  they  hid  it  in  the  jungle  near  a  village; 
and  one  of  them  sat  there,  sword  in  hand,  to  guard  it, 
whilst  the  other  went  into  the  village  to  get  rice  and  have 
it  cooked  for  supper.  But  true  is  the  saying : 
And  greed  is  verily  the  root  of  ruin. 

F.  &  T.  4 


He  who  stopped  by  the  treasure  thought,  "  When  my  mate 
comes  back,  he'll  want  half  of  this.  Suppose  I  kill  him 
the  moment  he  gets  back."  So  he  drew  his  sword  and  sat 
waiting  for  his  comrade's  return. 

Meanwhile,  the  other  had  equally  reflected  that  the 
booty  had  to  be  halved,  and  thought  to  himself,  "Suppose 
I  poison  the  rice,  and  give  it  him  to  eat  and  so  kill  him, 
and  have  the  whole  of  the  treasure  to  myself."  Accord- 


ingly,  when  the  rice  was  boiled,  he  first  ate  his  own  share, 
and  then  put  poison  in  the  rest,  which  he  carried  back 
with  him  to  the  jungle.  But  scarce  had  he  set  it  down, 
when  the  other  robber  cut  him  in  two  with  his  sword,  and 
hid  the  body  away  in  a  secluded  spot.  Then  he  ate  the 
poisoned  rice,  and  died  then  and  there.  Thus,  by  reason 
of  the  treasure,  not  only  the  brahmin  but  all  the  robbers 
came  to  destruction. 

Howbeit,  after  a  day  or  two  the  Bodhisatta  came  back 
with  the  ransom.  Not  finding  his  master  where  he  had 
left  him,  but  seeing  treasure  strewn  all  round  about,  his 
heart  misgave  him  that,  in  spite  of  his  advice,  his  master 
must  have  called  down  a  shower  of  treasure  from  the 
skies,  and  that  all  must  have  perished  in  consequence ; 
and  he  proceeded  along  the  road.  On  his  way  he  came 
to  where  his  master's  body  lay  cloven  in  twain  upon  the 
way.  "Alas!"  he  cried,  "he  is  dead  through  not  heeding 
my  warning."  Then  with  gathered  sticks  he  made  a  pyre 
and  burnt  his  master's  body,  making  an  offering  of  wild 
flowers.  Further  along  the  road,  he  came  upon  the  five 
hundred  "  Despatchers,"  and  further  still  upon  the  two 
hundred  and  fifty,  and  so  on  by  degrees  until  at  last  he 
came  to  where  lay  only  two  corpses.  Marking  how  of 
the  thousaud  all  but  two  had  perished,  and  feeling  sure 
that  there  must  be  two  survivors,  and  that  these  could 


not  refrain  from  strife,  he  pressed  on  to  see  where  they 
had  gone.  So  on  he  went  till  he  found  the  path  by  which 
with  the  treasure  they  had  turned  into  the  jungle;  and 
there  he  found  the  heap  of  bundles  of  treasure,  and  one 
robber  lying  dead  with  his  rice-bowl  overturned  at  his  side. 
Realising  the  whole  story  at  a  glance,  the  Bodhisatta  set 
himself  to  search  for  the  missing  man,  and  at  last  found 
his  body  in  the  secret  spot  where  it  had  been  flung. 
"And  thus,"  mused  the  Bodhisatta,  "  through  not  following 
my  counsel  my  master  in  his  self-will  has  been  the  means 
of  destroying  not  himself  only  but  a  thousand  others  also. 
Truly,  they  that  seek  their  own  gain  by  mistaken  and 
misguided  means  shall  reap  ruin,  even  as  my  master." 
And  he  repeated  this  stanza: 

Misguided  effort  leads  to  loss,  not  gain; 

Thieves  killed  Yedabbha  and  themsehes  were  slain. 

Thus  spake  the  Bodhisatta,  and  he  went  on  to  say,- 
"And  even  as  my  master's  misguided  and  misplaced  effort 
in  causing  the  rain  of  treasure  to  fall  from  heaven  wrought 
both  his  own  death  and  the  destruction  of  others  with 
him,  even  so  shall  every  other  man  who  by  mistaken  means 
seeks  to  compass  his  own  advantage  utterly  perish  and 
involve  others  in  his  destruction."  With  these  words  did 
the  Bodhisatta  make  the  forest  ring;  and  in  this  stanza 
did  he  preach  the  Truth,  whilst  the  tree  divinities  shouted 
applause.  The  treasure  he  contrived  to  carry  oft*  to  his 
own  home,  where  he  lived  out  his  term  of  life  in  the 
exercise  of  almsgiving  and  other  good  works.  And  when 
his  life  closed,  he  departed  to  the  heaven  he  had  won. 

A  simpler  form  of  this  tale  occurs  in  Tib.  T.  xix.  where  500  robbers  with  booty 
find  a  recently  killed  elephant,  and  250  of  them  are  sent  for  water.  These  poison 
the  water  that  they  bring,  and  eat  the  remainder  of  the  elephant,  which  the  others 
have  poisoned.  A.  jackal  finds  them,  and  begins  to  eat  a  bow-string,  which  snaps 
and  kills  him.  It  must  have  been  some  such  simpler  version  as  this  which  passed 



into  Europe  and  became  Chaucer's  Pardoner's  Tale.  The  immediate  source  of 
Chaucer  has  not  been  found.  The  earliest  known  European  form  is  in  the  Cento 
novelle  antiche  73.  See  Clouston,  ii.  379  ff.  For  Mohammedan  variants  see  Kuhn,  p.  82. 


Once  on  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  came  to  life  again  as  the  child 
of  the  queen;  and  on  his  name-day  they  gave  him  the 
name  of  Prince  Goodness  (Silava).  At  the  age  of  sixteen 
his  education  was  complete;  and  later  he  came  at  his 
father's  death  to  be  king,  and  ruled  his  people  righteously 
under  the  title  of  the  great  King  Goodness.  At  each  of 
the  four  city-gates  he  built  an  almonry,  another  in  the 
heart  of  the  city,  and  yet  another  at  his  own  palace-gates, 
-six  in  all;  and  at  each  he  distributed  alms  to  poor 
travellers  and  the  needy.  He  kept  the  Commandments 
and  observed  the  fast-days ;  he  abounded  in  patience, 
loving-kindness,  and  mercy ;  and  in  righteousness  he  ruled 
the  land,  cherishing  all  creatures  alike  with  the  fond  love 
of  a  father  for  his  baby  boy. 

Now  one  of  the  king's  ministers  had  dealt  treacherously 
in  the  king's  harem,  and  this  became  matter  of  common 
talk.  The  ministers  reported  it  to  the  king.  Examining 
into  the  matter  himself,  the  king  found  the  minister's  guilt 
to  be  clear.  So  he  seat  for  the  culprit,  and  said,  "O 
blinded  by  folly !  you  have  sinned,  and  are  not  worthy  to 
dwell  in  my  kingdom  ;  take  your  substance  and  your  wife 
and  family,  and  go  hence."  Driven  thus  from  the  realm, 
that  minister  left  the  Kasi  country,  and  entering  the 
service  of  the  king  of  Kosala,  gradually  rose  to  be  that 
monarch's  confidential  adviser.  One  day  he  said  to  the 
king  of  Kosala,  "Sire,  the  kingdom  of  Benares  is  like  a 


goodly  honeycomb  untainted  by  flies ;  its  king  is  feebleness 
itself;  and  a  trifling  force  would  suffice  to  conquer  the 
whole  country." 

Hereon,  the  king  of  Kosala  reflected  that  the  kingdom 
of  Benares  was  large,  and,  considering  this  in  connexion 
with  the  advice  that  a  trifling  force  could  conquer  it,  he 
grew  suspicious  that  his  adviser  was  a  hireling  suborned 
to  lead  him  into  a  trap.  "Traitor,"  he  cried,  "you  are 
paid  to  say  this ! " 

"Indeed  I  am  not,"  answered  the  other;  "I  do  but 
speak  the  truth.  If  you  doubt  me,  send  men  to  massacre 
a  village  over  his  border,  and  see  whether,  when  they  are 
caught  and  brought  before  him,  the  king  does  not  let 
them  off  scot-free  and  even  load  them  with  gifts." 

"  He  shews  a  very  bold  front  in  making  his  assertion," 
thought  the  king ;  "  I  will  test  his  counsel  without  delay." 
And  accordingly  he  sent  some  of  his  creatures  to  harry 
a  village  across  the  Benares  border.  The  ruffians  were 
captured  and  brought  before  the  king  of  Benares,  who 
asked  them,  saying,  "My  children,  why  have  you  killed 
my  villagers?" 

"  Because  we  could  not  make  a  living,"  said  they. 

"  Then  why  did  you  not  come  to  me  ? "  said  the  king. 
"See  that  you  do  not  do  the  like  again." 

And  he  gave  them  presents  and  sent  them  away.  Back 
they  went  and  told  this  to  the  king  of  Kosala.  But  this 
evidence  was  not  enough  to  nerve  him  to  the  expedition ; 
and  a  second  band  was  sent  to  massacre  another  village, 


this  time  in  the  heart  of  the  kingdom.  These  too  were 
likewise  sent  away  with  presents  by  the  king  of  Benares. 
But  even  this  evidence  was  not  deemed  strong  enough ; 

O  O 

and  a  third  party  was  sent  to  plunder  the  very  streets  of 
Benares.  And  these,  like  their  forerunners,  were  sent 


away  with  presents !  Satisfied  at  last  that  the  king  of 
Benares  was  an  entirely  good  king,  the  king  of  Kosala 
resolved  to  seize  on  his  kingdom,  and  set  out  against  him 
with  troops  and  elephants. 

Now  in  these  days  the  king  of  Benares  had  a  thousand 
gallant  warriors,  who  would  face  the  charge  even  of  a  rut 
elephant, — whom  the  launched  thunderbolt  of  Indra  could 
not  terrify, — a  matchless  band  of  invincible  heroes  ready 
at  the  king's  command  to  reduce  all  India  to  his  sway ! 
These,  hearing  the  king  of  Kosala  was  coming  to  take 
Benares,  came  to  their  sovereign  with  the  news,  and 
prayed  that  they  might  be  despatched  against  the  invader. 
"  We  will  defeat  and  capture  him,  sire,"  said  they,  "  before 
he  can  set  foot  over  the  border." 

"  Not  so,  my  children,"  said  the  king.  "  None  shall 
suffer  because  of  me.  Let  those  who  covet  kingdoms 
seize  mine,  if  they  will."  And  he  refused  to  allow  them 
to  march  against  the  invader. 

Then  the  king  of  Kosala  crossed  the  border  and  came 
to  the  middle-country ;  and  again  the  ministers  went  to 
the  king  with  renewed  entreaty.  But  still  the  king  refused. 
And  now  the  king  of  Kosala  appeared  outside  the  city, 
and  sent  a  message  to  the  king  bidding  him  either  yield 
up  the  kingdom  or  give  battle.  "I  fight  not,"  was  the 
message  of  the  king  of  Benares  in  reply ;  "  let  him  seize 
my  kingdom." 

Yet  a  third  time  the  king's  ministers  came  to  him  and 
besought  him  not  to  allow  the  king  of  Kosala  to  enter, 
but  to  permit  them  to  overthrow  and  capture  him  before 
the  city.  Still  refusing,  the  king  bade  the  city-gates  be 
opened,  and  seated  himself  in  state  aloft  upon  his  royal 
throne  with  his  thousand  ministers  round  him. 

Entering  the  city  and  finding  none  to  bar  his  way,  the 


king  of  Kosala  passed  with  his  army  to  the  royal  palace. 
The  doors  stood  open  wide;  and  there  on  his  gorgeous 
throne  with  his  thousand  ministers  around  him  sate  the 
great  King  Goodness  in  state.  "Seize  them  all,"  cried 
the  king  of  Kosala ;  "  tie  their  hands  tightly  behind  their 
backs,  and  away  with  them  to  the  cemetery!  There  dig 
holes  and  bury  them  alive  up  to  the  neck,  so  that  they 
cannot  move  hand  or  foot.  The  jackals  will  come  at 
night  and  give  them  sepulchre ! " 

At  the  bidding  of  the  ruffianly  king,  his  followers  bound 
the  king  of  Benares  and  his  ministers,  and  hauled  them 
off.  But  even  in  this  hour  not  so  much  as  an  angry 
thought  did  the  great  King  Goodness  harbour  against  the 
ruffians ;  and  not  a  man  among  his  ministers,  even  when 
they  were  being  marched  off  in  bonds,  could  disobey  the 
king, — so  perfect  is  said  to  have  been  the  discipline  among 
his  followers. 

So  King  Goodness  and  his  ministers  were  led  off  and 
buried  up  to  the  neck  in  pits  in  the  cemetery, — the  king 
in  the  middle  and  the  others  on  either  side  of  him.  The 
ground  was  trampled  in  upon  them,  and  there  they  were 
left.  Still  meek  and  free  from  anger  against  his  oppressor, 
King  Goodness  exhorted  his  companions,  saying,  "Let 
your  hearts  be  filled  with  naught  but  love  and  charity, 
my  children." 

Now  at  midnight  the  jackals  came  trooping  to  the 
banquet  of  human  flesh ;  and  at  sight  of  the  beasts  the 
king  and  his  companions  raised  a  mighty  shout  all  to- 
gether, frightening  the  jackals  away.  Halting,  the  pack 
looked  back,  and,  seeing  no  one  pursuing,  again  came 
forward.  A  second  shout  drove  them  away  again,  but 
only  to  return  as  before.  But  the  third  time,  seeing  that 
not  a  man  amongst  them  all  pursued,  the  jackals  thought 


to  themselves,  "These  must  be  men  who  are  doomed  to 
death."  They  came  on  boldly ;  even  when  the  shout  was 
again  being  raised,  they  did  not  turn  tail.  On  they  came, 
each  singling  out  his  prey, — the  chief  jackal  making  for 
the  king,  and  the  other  jackals  for  his  companions.  Fertile 
in  resource,  the  king  marked  the  beast's  approach,  and, 
raising  his  throat  as  if  to  receive  the  bite,  fastened  his 
teeth  in  the  jackal's  throat  with  a  grip  like  a  vice!  Unable 
to  free  its  throat  from  the  mighty  grip  of  the  king's  jaws, 
and  fearing  death,  the  jackal  raised  a  great  howl.  At  his 
cry  of  distress  the  pack  conceived  that  their  leader  must 
have  been  caught  by  a  man.  With  no  heart  left  to  ap- 
proach their  own  destined  prey,  away  they  all  scampered 
for  their  lives. 

Seeking  to  free  itself  from  the  king's  teeth,  the  trapped 
jackal  plunged  madly  to  and  fro,  and  thereby  loosened 
the  earth  above  the  king.  Hereupon  the  latter,  letting 
the  jackal  go,  put  forth  his  mighty  strength,  and  by  plung- 
ing from  side  to  side  got  his  hands  free !  Then,  clutching 
the  brink  of  the  pit,  he  drew  himself  up,  and  came  forth 
like  a  cloud  scudding  before  the  wind.  Bidding  his 
companions  be  of  good  cheer,  he  now  set  to  work  to 
loosen  the  earth  round  them  and  to  get  them  out,  till 
with  all  his  ministers  he  stood  free  once  more  in  the 

Now  it  chanced  that  a  corpse  had  been  exposed  in 
that  part  of  the  cemetery,  which  lay  between  the  respective 
domains  of  two  goblins ;  and  the  goblins  were  disputing 
over  the  division  of  the  spoil. 

"We  can't  divide  it  ourselves,"  said  they;  "but  this 
King  Goodness  is  righteous ;  he  will  divide  it  for  us.  Let 
us  go  to  him."  So  they  dragged  the  corpse  by  the  foot 
to  the  king,  and  said,  "  Sire,  divide  this  man  and  give  us 


each  our  share."  "  Certainly  I  will,  my  friends,"  said  the 
king.  "  But,  as  I  am  dirty,  I  must  bathe  first." 

Straightway,  by  their  magic  power,  the  goblins  brought 
to  the  king  the  scented  water  prepared  for  the  usurper's 
bath.  And  when  the  king  had  bathed,  they  brought  him 
the  robes  which  had  been  laid  out  for  the  usurper  to 
wear.  When  he  had  put  these  on,  they  brought  his 
majesty  a  box  containing  the  four  kinds  of  scent.  When 
he  had  perfumed  himself,  they  brought  flowers  of  divers 
kinds  laid  out  upon  jewelled  fans,  in  a  casket  of  gold. 
When  he  had  decked  himself  with  the  flowers,  the  goblins 
asked  whether  they  could  be  of  any  further  service.  And 
the  king  gave  them  to  understand  that  he  was  hungry. 
So  away  went  the  goblins,  and  returned  with  rice  flavoured 
with  all  the  choicest  flavours,  which  had  been  prepared 
for  the  usurper's  table.  And  the  king,  now  bathed  and 
scented,  dressed  and  arrayed,  ate  of  the  dainty  fare. 
Thereupon  the  goblins  brought  the  usurper's  perfumed 
water  for  him  to  drink,  in  the  usurper's  own  golden  bowl, 
not  forgetting  to  bring  the  golden  cup  too.  When  the 
king  had  drunk  and  had  washed  his  mouth  and  was 
washing  his  hands,  they  brought  him  fragrant  betel  to 
chew,  and  asked  whether  his  majesty  had  any  further 
commands.  "  Fetch  me,"  said  he,  "  by  your  magic  power 
the  sword  of  state  which  lies  by  the  usurper's  pillow." 
And  straightway  the  sword  was  brought  to  the  king.  Then 
the  king  took  the  corpse,  and  setting  it  upright,  cut  it  in 
two  down  the  chine,  giving  one-half  to  each  goblin.  This 
done,  the  king  washed  the  blade,  and  girded  it  on  his 

Having  eaten  their  fill,  the  goblins  were  glad  of  heart, 
and  in  their  gratitude  asked  the  king  what  more  they 
could  do  for  him.  "  Set  me  by  your  magic  power,"  said 


he,  "  in  the  usurper's  chamber,  and  set  each  of  my  ministers 
back  in  his  own  house."  "  Certainly,  sire,"  said  the  goblins ; 
and  forthwith  it  was  done.  Now  in  that  hour  the  usurper 
was  lying  asleep  on  the  royal  bed  in  his  chamber  of  state. 
And  as  he  slept  in  all  tranquillity,  the  good  king  struck 
him  with  the  flat  of  the  sword  upon  the  belly.  Waking 
up  in  a  fright,  the  usurper  saw  by  the  lamp-light  that  it 
was  the  great  King  Goodness.  Summoning  up  all  his 
courage,  he  rose  from  his  couch  and  said:  "Sire,  it  is 
night ;  a  guard  is  set ;  the  doors  are  barred ;  and  none 
may  enter.  How  then  came  you  to  my  bedside,  sword  in 
hand  and  clad  in  robes  of  splendour  ? "  Then  the  king 
told  him  in  detail  all  the  story  of  his  escape.  Then  the 
usurper's  heart  was  moved  within  him,  and  he  cried,  "  O 
king,  I,  though  blessed  with  human  nature,  knew  not 
your  goodness ;  but  knowledge  thereof  was  given  to  the 
fierce  and  cruel  goblins,  whose  food  is  flesh  and  blood. 
Henceforth,  I,  sire,  will  not  plot  against  such  signal  virtue 
as  you  possess."  So  saying,  he  swore  an  oath  of  friendship 
upon  his  sword  and  begged  the  king's  forgiveness.  And 
he  made  the  king  lie  down  upon  the  bed  of  state,  while 
he  stretched  himself  upon  a  little  couch. 

On  the  morrow  at  daybreak,  when  the  sun  had  risen, 
his  whole  host  of  every  rank  and  degree  was  mustered  by 
beat  of  drum  at  the  usurper's  command;  in  their  presence 
he  extolled  King  Goodness,  as  if  raising  the  full-moon  on 
high  in  the  heavens ;  and  right  before  them  all,  he  again 
asked  the  king's  forgiveness  and  gave  him  back  his  king- 
dom, saying,  "Henceforth,  let  it  be  my  charge  to  deal 
with  rebels ;  rule  thou  thy  kingdom,  with  me  to  keep 
watch  and  ward."  And  so  saying,  he  passed  sentence  on 
the  slanderous  traitor,  and  with  his  troops  and  elephants 
went  back  to  his  own  kingdom. 


Seated  in  majesty  and  splendour  beneath  a  white 
umbrella  of  sovereignty  upon  a  throne  of  gold  with  legs 
as  of  a  gazelle,  the  great  King  Goodness  contemplated 
his  own  glory  and  thought  thus  within  himself:  "Had 
I  not  persevered,  I  should  not  be  in  the  enjoyment  of  this 
magnificence,  nor  would  my  thousand  ministers  be  still 
numbered  among  the  living.  It  was  by  perseverance  that 
I  recovered  the  royal  state  I  had  lost,  and  saved  the  lives 
of  my  thousand  ministers.  Verily,  we  should  strive  on 
unremittingly  with  dauntless  hearts,  seeing  that  the  fruit 
of  perseverance  is  so  excellent."  And  therewithal  the 
king  broke  into  this  heartfelt  utterance: 

Toil  on,  my  brother;  still  in  hope  stand  fast; 

Nor  let  thy  courage  flag-  and  tire. 
Myself  I  see,  who,  all  my  woes  o'erpast, 

Am  master  of  my  heart's  desire. 

Thus  spoke  the  Bodhisatta  in  the  fulness  of  his  heart, 
declaring  how  sure  it  is  that  the  earnest  effort  of  the 
good  will  come  to  maturity.  After  a  life  spent  in  right- 
doing  he  passed  away  to  fare  thereafter  according  to  his 

Variant  of  Jat.  282,  303.  Tawney  (Journ.  Philol.  xu.  120)  compares  the  escape 
of  Sigmund  from  the  wolf  in  the  Volsunga  Saga  ( The  Story  of  the  Volsungs,  tr. 
Magnusson  and  Morris,  v.).  The  moral  of  the  tale  is  the  buddhist  doctrine  of  non- 
resistance  to  evil,  but  the  moral  of  perseverance  expressed  in  the  verses  appears  to 
belong  to  an  earlier  non-buddhistic  version  of  the  tale. 


Once  on  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  it  was  as  his  queen's  child  that  the  Bodhisatta 
came  to  life  once  more.  On  the  day  when  he  was  to 
be  named,  the  parents  enquired  as  to  their  child's  destiny 
from  eight  hundred  brahmins,  to  whom  they  gave  their 
hearts'  desire  in  all  pleasures  of  sense.  Marking  the 


promise  which  he  shewed  of  a  glorious  destiny,  these 
clever  soothsaying  brahmins  foretold  that,  coming  to  the 
throne  at  the  king's  death,  the  child  should  be  a  mighty 
king  endowed  with  everv  virtue  ;  famed  and  renowned  for 


his  exploits  with  five  weapons,  he  should  stand  peerless  in 
all  Jambudlpa1.  And  because  of  this  prophecy  of  the  brah- 
mins, the  parents  named  their  son  Prince  Five- Weapons. 

Now,  when  the  prince  was  come  to  years  of  discretion, 
and  was  sixteen  years  old,  the  king  bade  him  go  away 
and  study. 

"  With  whom,  sire,  am  I  to  study  ? "  asked  the  prince. 

"  With  the  world-famed  teacher  in  the  town  of  Takka- 
sila in  the  Gandhara  country.  Here  is  his  fee,"  said  the 
king,  handing  his  son  a  thousand  pieces. 

So  the  prince  went  to  Takkasila  and  was  taught  there. 
When  he  was  leaving,  his  master  gave  him  a  set  of  five 
weapons,  armed  with  which,  after  bidding  adieu  to  his  old 
master,  the  prince  set  out  from  Takkasila  for  Benares. 

On  his  way  he  came  to  a  forest  haunted  by  a  goblin 
named  Hairy -grip ;  and,  at  the  entrance  to  the  forest, 
men  who  met  him  tried  to  stop  him,  saying :  "  Young 
student,  do  not  go  through  that  forest;  it  is  the  haunt 
of  the  goblin  Hairy -grip,  and  he  kills  every  one  he  meets." 
But,  bold  as  a  lion,  the  self-reliant  Bodhisatta  pressed  on, 
till  in  the  heart  of  the  forest  he  came  on  the  goblin.  The 
monster  made  himself  appear  in  stature  as  tall  as  a  palm- 
tree,  with  a  head  as  big  as  an  arbour  and  huge  eyes  like 
bowls,  with  two  tusks  like  turnips  and  the  beak  of  a 
hawk  ;  his  belly  was  blotched  with  purple ;  and  the  palms 
of  his  hands  and  the  soles  of  his  feet  were  blue-black ! 
"  Whither  away  ? "  cried  the  monster.  "  Halt !  you  are  my 

1  This  was  one  of  the  four  islands  of  which  the  earth  was  supposed  to  consist ; 
it  included  India,  and  represented  the  inhabited  world  to  the  Indian  mind. 


prey."  "  Goblin,"  answered  the  Bodhisatta,  "  I  knew  what 
I  was  doing  when  entering  this  forest.  You  will  be  ill- 
advised  to  come  near  me.  For  with  a  poisoned  arrow 
I  will  slay  you  where  you  stand."  And  with  this  defiance, 
he  fitted  to  his  bow  an  arrow  dipped  in  deadliest  poison 
and  shot  it  at  the  goblin.  But  it  only  stuck  on  to  the 
monster's  shaggy  coat.  Then  he  shot  another  and  another, 
till  fifty  were  spent,  all  of  which  merely  stuck  on  to  the 
goblin's  shaggy  coat.  Hereon  the  goblin,  shaking  the 
arrows  oft'  so  that  they  fell  at  his  feet,  came  at  the  Bod- 
hisatta ;  and  the  latter,  again  shouting  defiance,  drew  his 
sword  and  struck  at  the  goblin.  But,  like  the  arrows,  his 
sword,  which  was  thirty-three  inches  long,  merely  stuck 
fast  in  the  shaggy  hair.  Next  the  Bodhisatta  hurled  his 
spear,  and  that  stuck  fast  also.  Seeing  this,  he  smote  the 
goblin  with  his  club;  but,  like  his  other  weapons,  that 
too  stuck  fast.  And  thereupon  the  Bodhisatta  shouted, 
"  Goblin,  you  never  heard  yet  of  me,  Prince  Five-Weapons. 
When  I  ventured  into  this  forest,  I  put  my  trust  not  in 
my  bow  and  other  weapons,  but  in  myself!  Now  will 
I  strike  you  a  blow  which  shall  crush  you  into  dust."  So 
saying,  the  Bodhisatta  smote  the  goblin  with  his  right 
hand ;  but  the  hand  stuck  fast  upon  the  hair.  Then,  in 
turn,  with  his  left  hand  and  with  his  right  and  left  feet, 
he  struck  at  the  monster,  but  hand  and  feet  alike  clave  to 
the  hide.  Again  shouting  "I  will  crush  you  into  dust !"  he 
butted  the  goblin  with  his  head,  and  that  too  stuck  fast. 

Yet  even  when  thus  caught  and  snared  in  fivefold  wise, 
the  Bodhisatta,  as  he  hung  upon  the  goblin,  was  still 
fearless,  still  undaunted.  And  the  monster  thought  to 
himself,  "  This  is  a  very  lion  among  men,  a  hero  without 
a  peer,  and  no  mere  man.  Though  he  is  caught  in  the 
clutches  of  a  goblin  like  me,  yet  not  so  much  as  a  tremor 


will  he  exhibit.  Never,  since  I  first  took  to  slaying 
travellers  upon  this  road,  have  I  seen  a  man  to  equal 
him.  How  comes  it  that  he  is  not  frightened?"  Not 
daring  to  devour  the  Bodhisatta  offhand,  he  said,  "  HOW 
is  it,  young  student,  that  you  have  no  fear  of  death  ? " 

"Why  should  I?"  answered  the  Bodhisatta.  "Each 
life  must  surely  have  its  destined  death.  Moreover, 
within  my  body  is  a  sword  of  adamant,  which  you  will 
never  digest,  if  you  eat  me.  It  will  chop  your  inwards 
into  mincemeat,  and  my  death  will  involve  yours  too. 
Therefore  it  is  that  I  have  no  fear."  (By  this,  it  is  said, 
the  Bodhisatta  meant  the  Sword  of  Knowledge,  which 
was  within  him.) 

Hereon,  the  goblin  fell  a-thinking.  "  This  young 
student  is  speaking  the  truth  and  nothing  but  the  truth," 
thought  he.  "  Not  a  morsel  so  big  as  a  pea  could  I  digest 
of  such  a  hero.  I'll  let  him  go."  And  so,  in  fear  of  his 
life,  he  let  the  Bodhisatta  go  free,  saying,  "  Young  student, 
you  are  a  lion  among  men ;  I  will  not  eat  you.  Go  forth 
from  my  hand,  even  as  the  moon  from  the  jaws  of  Rahu, 
and  return  to  gladden  the  hearts  of  your  kinsfolk,  your 
friends,  and  your  country/' 

"  As  for  myself,  goblin,"  answered  the  Bodhisatta,  "  I 
will  go.  As  for  you,  it  was  your  sins  in  bygone  days  that 
caused  you  to  be  re-born  a  ravening,  murderous,  flesh- 
eating  goblin ;  and,  if  you  continue  in  sin  in  this  existence, 
you  will  go  on  from  darkness  to  darkness.  But,  having 
seen  me,  you  will  be  unable  thenceforth  to  sin  any  more. 
Know  that  to  destroy  life  is  to  ensure  re-birth  either  in 
hell  or  as  a  brute  or  as  a  ghost  or  as  a  titan.  Or,  if  the 
re-birth  be  into  the  world  of  men,  then  such  siu  cuts  short 
the  davs  of  a  man's  life." 


In  this  and  other  ways  the  Bodhisatta  shewed  the  evil 


consequences  of  the  five  bad  courses,  and  the  blessing 
that  comes  of  the  Five  Commandments ;  and  so  wrought  in 
divers  ways  upon  that  goblin's  fears  that  by  his  teaching 
he  converted  the  monster,  imbuing  him  with  self-denial 
and  establishing  him  in  the  Five  Commandments.  Then 
making  the  goblin  the  divinity  of  that  forest,  with  a  right 
to  receive  offerings,  and  charging  him  to  remain  steadfast, 
the  Bodhisatta  went  his  way,  making  known  the  change  in 
the  goblin's  mood  as  he  issued  from  the  forest.  And  in 
the  end  he  came,  armed  with  the  five  weapons,  to  the 
city  of  Benares,  and  presented  himself  before  his  parents. 
In  later  days,  when  king,  he  was  a  righteous  ruler ;  and 
after  a  life  spent  in  charity  and  other  good  works  he 
passed  away  to  fare  thereafter  according  to  his  deserts. 

In  Sam-Nik,  an  earlier  form  of  the  tale  occurs  as  the  parable  of  a  monkey  whose 
limbs  and  head  are  caught  in  an  adhesive  substance,  set  as  a  trap  by  hunters.  Of.  Mrs 
Rhys  Davids,  Budd.  Psychol.  p.  35.  The  Wonderful  Tar-baby  ( J.  C.  Harris,  Uncle 
Remus]  which  according  to  Jacobs  (p.  136)  is  "  perhaps  the  most  remarkable  instance 
of  the  insidious  spread  of  buddhistic  tales."  See  A.  Werner,  The  Tar-Baby  Story, 
Folklore,  x.  282,  and  more  of  Mr  Jacobs'  theories  in  his  Indian  Fairy  Tales,  251  ff. 


Once  on  a  time  wrhen  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  came  to  life  as  the  child  of  the 
Queen-consort.  When  he  grew  up,  he  mastered  every 
accomplishment ;  and  when,  at  his  father's  death,  he  came 
to  be  king,  he  proved  a  righteous  king.  Now  he  used  to 
play  at  dice  with  his  family  priest,  and,  as  he  flung  the 
golden  dice  upon  the  silver  dice-board,  he  would  sing  this 

catch  for  luck : 

'Tis  nature's  law  that  rivers  wind; 
Trees  grow  of  wood  by  law  of  kind; 
And,  given  opportunity, 
All  women  wrork  iniquity. 


As  these  lines  always  made  the  king  win  the  game,  the 
priest  was  in  a  fair  way  to  lose  every  penny  he  had  in  the 
world.  And,  in  order  to  save  himself  from  utter  ruin,  he 
resolved  to  seek  out  a  little  maid  that  had  never  seen 
another  man,  and  then  to  keep  her  under  lock  and  key  in 
his  own  house.  "  For,"  thought  he,  "  I  couldn't  manage  to 
look  after  a  girl  who  has  seen  another  man.  So  I  must 
take  a  new-born  baby  girl,  and  keep  her  under  my  thumb 
as  she  grows  up,  with  a  close  guard  over  her,  so  that  none 
may  come  near  her  and  that  she  may  be  true  to  one  man. 
Then  I  shall  win  of  the  king,  and  grow  rich."  Now  he  was 
skilled  in  bodily  signs;  and  seeing  a  poor  woman  who 
was  about  to  become  a  mother,  and  knowing  that  her 
child  would  be  a  girl,  he  paid  the  woman  to  come  and  be 
confined  in  his  house,  and  sent  her  away  after  her  confine- 
ment with  a  present.  The  infant  was  brought  up  entirely 
by  women,  and  no  men — other  than  himself— were  ever 
allowed  to  set  eyes  on  her.  When  the  girl  grew  up,  she 
was  subject  to  him  and  he  was  her  master. 

Now,  while  the  girl  was  growing  up,  the  priest  forbore 
to  play  with  the  king ;  but  when  she  was  grown  up  and 
under  his  own  control,  he  challenged  the  king  to  a  game. 
The  king  accepted,  and  play  began.  But,  when  in  throwing 
the  dice  the  king  sang  his  lucky  catch,  the  priest  added, 
-"always  excepting  my  girl."  And  then  luck  changed, 
and  it  was  now  the  priest  who  won,  while  the  king  lost. 

Thinking  the  matter  over,  the  Bodhisatta  suspected 
the  priest  had  a  virtuous  girl  shut  up  in  his  house ;  and 
enquiry  proved  his  suspicions  true.  Then,  in  order  to 
work  her  fall,  he  sent  for  a  clever  scamp,  and  asked 
whether  he  thought  he  could  seduce  the  girl.  "  Certainly, 
sire,"  said  the  fellow.  So  the  king  gave  him  money,  and 
sent  him  away  with  orders  to  lose  no  time. 


With  the  king's  money  the  fellow  bought  perfumes 
and  incense  and  aromatics  of  all  sorts,  and  opened  a  per- 
fumery shop  close  to  the  priest's  house.  Now  the  priest's 
house  was  seven  stories  high,  and  had  seven  gateways,  at 
each  of  which  a  guard  was  set, — a  guard  of  women  only,— 
and  no  man  but  the  brahmin  himself  was  ever  allowed  to 
enter.  The  verv  baskets  that  contained  the  dust  and 


sweepings  were  examined  before  they  were  passed  in. 
Only  the  priest  was  allowed  to  see  the  girl,  and  she  had 
only  a  single  waiting-woman.  This  woman  had  money 
given  her  to  buy  flowers  and  perfumes  for  her  mistress, 
and  on  her  way  she  used  to  pass  near  the  shop  which  the 
scamp  had  opened.  And  he,  knowing  very  well  that  she 
was  the  girl's  attendant,  watched  one  day  for  her  coming, 
and,  rushing  out  of  his  shop,  fell  at  her  feet,  clasping  her 
feet  tightly  with  both  hands  and  blubbering  out,  "  O  my 
mother !  where  have  you  been  all  this  long  time  ? " 

And  his  confederates,  who  stood  by  his  side,  cried, 
"  What  a  likeness !  Hand  and  foot,  face  and  figure,  even 
in  style  of  dress,  they  are  identical ! "  As  one  and  all 
kept  dwelling  on  the  marvellous  likeness,  the  poor  woman 
lost  her  head.  Crying  out  that  it  must  be  her  boy,  she 
too  burst  into  tears.  And  with  weeping  and  tears  the 
two  fell  to  embracing  one  another.  Then  said  the  man, 
"Where  are  you  living,  mother?" 

"Up  at  the  priest's,  my  son.  He  has  a  young  wife 
of  peerless  beauty,  a  very  goddess  for  grace ;  and  I'm  her 
waiting-woman."  "And  whither  away  now,  mother?"  "To 
buy  her  perfumes  and  flowers."  "  Why  go  elsewhere  for 
them  ?  Come  to  me  for  them  in  future,"  said  the  fellow. 
And  he  gave  the  woman  betel,  bdellium,  and  so  forth,  and 
all  kinds  of  flowers,  refusing  all  payment.  Struck  with  the 
quantity  of  flowers  and  perfumes  which  the  waiting-woman 

P.  &  T.  5 


brought  home,  the  girl  asked  why  the  brahmin  was  so 
pleased  with  her  that  day.  "  Why  do  you  say  that,  my 
dear?"  asked  the  old  woman.  "Because  of  the  quantity 
of  things  you  have  brought  home."  "  No,  it  isn't  that  the 
brahmin  was  free  with  his  money,"  said  the  old  woman ; 
"  for  I  got  them  at  my  son's."  And  from  that  day  forth  she 
kept  the  money  the  brahmin  gave  her,  and  got  her  flowers 
and  other  things  free  of  charge  at  the  man's  shop. 

And  he,  a  few  days  later,  made  out  to  be  ill,  and  took 
to  his  bed.  So  when  the  old  Avoman  came  to  the  shop 
and  asked  for  her  son,  she  was  told  he  had  been  taken  ill. 
Hastening  to  his  side,  she  fondly  stroked  his  shoulders, 
as  she  asked  what  ailed  him.  But  he  made  no  reply. 
"  Why  don't  you  tell  me,  my  son  ? "  "  Not  even  if  I  were 
dying,  could  I  tell  you,  mother."  "  But,  if  you  don't  tell 
me,  whom  are  you  to  tell?"  "Well  then,  mother,  my 
malady  lies  solely  in  this  that,  hearing  the  praises  of  your 
young  mistress's  beauty,  I  have  fallen  in  love  with  her. 
If  I  win  her,  I  shall  live  ;  if  not,  this  will  be  my  death-bed." 
"  Leave  that  to  me,  my  boy,"  said  the  old  woman  cheerily ; 
"  and  don't  worry  yourself  on  this  account,"  Then — with 
a  heavy  load  of  perfumes  and  flowers  to  take  with  her— 
she  went  home,  and  said  to  the  brahmin's  young  wife, 
"  Alas !  here's  my  son  in  love  with  you,  merely  because 
I  told  him  how  beautiful  you  are  !  What  is  to  be  done  ? " 

"  If  you  can  smuggle  him  in  here,"  replied  the  girl, 
"  you  have  my  leave." 

Hereupon  the  old  woman  set  to  work  sweeping  together 
all  the  dust  she  could  find  in  the  house  from  top  to 
bottom ;  this  dust  she  put  into  a  huge  flower-basket,  and 
tried  to  pass  out  with  it.  When  the  usual  search  was 
made,  she  emptied  dust  over  the  woman  on  guard,  who 
fled  away  under  such  ill-treatment.  In  like  manner  she 


dealt  with  all  the  other  watchers,  smothering  in  dust  each 
one  in  turn  that  said  anything  to  her.  And  so  it  came  to 
pass  from  that  time  forward  that,  no  matter  what  the  old 
woman  took  in  or  out  of  the  house,  there  was  nobody  bold 
enough  to  search  her.  Now  was  the  time !  The  old 
woman  smuggled  the  scamp  into  the  house  in  a  flower- 
basket,  and  brought  him  to  her  young  mistress.  He 
succeeded  in  wrecking  the  girl's  virtue,  and  actually  stayed 
a  day  or  two  in  the  upper  rooms, — hiding  when  the  priest 
was  at  home,  and  enjoying  the  society  of  his  mistress  when 
the  priest  was  off  the  premises.  A  day  or  two  passed  and 
the  girl  said  to  her  lover,  "  Sweetheart,  you  must  be  going 
now."  "  Very  well ;  only  I  must  cuff  the  brahmin  first." 
"  Certainly,"  said  she,  and  hid  the  scamp.  Then,  when  the 
brahmin  came  in  again,  she  exclaimed.  "Oh,  my  dear 
husband,  I  should  so  like  to  dance,  if  you  would  play  the 
lute  for  me."  "  Dance  away,  my  dear,"  said  the  priest,  and 
struck  up  forthwith.  "  But  I  shall  be  too  ashamed,  if 
you're  looking.  Let  me  hide  your  handsome  face  first 
with  a  cloth ;  and  then  I  will  dance."  "  All  right,"  said 
he ;  "  if  you're  too  modest  to  dance  otherwise."  So  she 
took  a  thick  cloth  and  tied  it  over  the  brahmin's  face  so 
as  to  blindfold  him.  And,  blindfolded  as  he  was,  the 
brahmin  began  to  play  the  lute.  After  dancing  awhile, 
she  cried,  "  My  dear,  I  should  so  like  to  hit  you  once 
on  the  head."  "  Hit  away,"  said  the  unsuspecting  dotard. 
Then  the  girl  made  a  sign  to  her  paramour ;  and  he  softly 
stole  up  behind  the  brahmin  and  smote  him  on  the  head. 
Such  was  the  force  of  the  blow,  that  the  brahmin's  eyes 
were  like  to  start  out  of  his  head,  and  a  bump  rose  up  on 
the  spot.  Smarting  with  pain,  he  called  to  the  girl  to  give 
him  her  hand ;  and  she  placed  it  in  his.  "  Ah  !  it's  a  soft 
hand,"  said  he ;  "  but  it  hits  hard ! " 



Now,  as  soon  as  the  scamp  had  struck  the  brahmin,  he 
hid ;  and  when  he  was  hidden,  the  girl  took  the  bandage 
off  the  priest's  eyes  and  rubbed  his  bruised  head  with  oil. 
The  moment  the  brahmin  went  out,  the  scamp  was  stowed 
away  in  his  basket  again  by  the  old  woman,  and  so  carried 
out  of  the  house.  Making  his  way  at  once  to  the  king,  he 
told  him  the  whole  adventure. 

Accordingly,  when  the  brahmin  was  next  in  attendance, 
the  king  proposed  a  game  with  the  dice ;  the  brahmin  was 
willing;  and  the  king  caused  the  gaming-circle  to  be 
drawn 1.  As  the  king  made  his  throw,  he  sang  his  old  catch, 
and  the  brahmin — ignorant  of  the  girl's  naughtiness — added 
his  "always  excepting  my  girl,"  -and  nevertheless  lost! 

Then  the  king,  who  did  know  what  had  passed,  said  to 
his  priest,  "  Why  except  her  ?  Her  virtue  has  given  way. 
Ah,  you  dreamed  that  by  taking  a  girl  in  the  hour  of  her 
birth  and  by  placing  a  sevenfold  guard  round  her,  you 
could  be  certain  of  her.  Why,  you  couldn't  be  certain  of 
a  woman,  even  if  you  had  her  inside  you  and  always 
walked  about  with  her.  No  woman  is  ever  faithful  to  one 
man  alone.  As  for  that  girl  of  yours,  she  told  you  she 
should  like  to  dance,  and  having  first  blindfolded  you  as 
you  played  the  lute  to  her,  she  let  her  paramour  strike 
you  on  the  head,  and  then  smuggled  him  out  of  the  house. 
Where  then  is  your  exception  ? "  And  so  saying,  the  king 
repeated  this  stanza : 

Blindfold,  a-luting,  by  his  wife  beguiled, 
The  brahmin  sat, — who  tried  to  rear 

A  paragon  of  virtue  uudeflled! 
Learn  hence  to  hold  the  sex  in  fear. 

1  This  was  a  circle  drawn  round  the  players,  out  of  which  they  could  not  go  with- 
out incurring  a  curse,  until  the  debts  were  settled.  In  Jat.  91  a  losing  player  avoids 
breaking  the  circle  by  swallowing  one  of  the  dice,  and  thus  stopping  the  game 


In  such  wise  did  the  Bodhisatta  expound  the  Truth  to 
the  brahmin.  And  the  brahmin  went  home  and  taxed  the 
girl  with  the  wickedness  of  which  she  was  accused.  "  My 
dear  husband,  who  can  have  said  such  a  thing  about  me?" 
said  she.  "  Indeed  I  am  innocent ;  indeed  it  was  my  own 
hand,  and  nobody  else's,  that  struck  you ;  and,  if  you  do 
not  believe  me,  I  will  brave  the  ordeal  of  fire  and  swear  that 
no  man's  hand  has  touched  me  but  yours ;  and  so  I  will 
make  you  believe  me."  "So  be  it,"  said  the  brahmin. 
And  he  had  a  quantity  of  wood  brought  and  set  light  to 
it.  Then  the  girl  was  summoned.  "  Now,"  said  he,  "  if  you 
believe  your  own  story,  brave  these  flames ! " 

Now  before  this  the  girl  had  instructed  her  attendant 
as  follows:  "Tell  your  son,  mother,  to  be  there  and  to 
seize  my  hand  just  as  I  am  about  to  go  into  the  fire." 
And  the  old  woman  did  as  she  was  bidden ;  and  the  fellow 
came  and  took  his  stand  among  the  crowd.  Then,  to 
delude  the  brahmin,  the  girl,  standing  there  before  all  the 
people,  exclaimed  with  fervour,  "  No  man's  hand  but  thine, 
brahmin,  has  ever  touched  me ;  and,  by  the  truth  of  my 
asseveration  I  call  on  this  fire  to  harm  me  not."  So  saying, 
she  advanced  to  the  burning  pile, — when  up  dashed  her 
paramour,  who  seized  her  by  the  hand,  crying  shame  on 
the  brahmin  who  could  force  so  fair  a  maid  to  enter  the 
flames !  Shaking  her  hand  free,  the  girl  exclaimed  to  the 
brahmin  that  what  she  had  sworn  wras  now  undone,  and 
that  she  could  not  now  brave  the  ordeal  of  fire.  "Why 
not?"  said  the  brahmin.  "Because,"  she  replied,  "my 
asseveration  was  that  no  man's  hand  but  thine  had  ever 
touched  me ;  and  now  here  is  a  man  wrho  has  seized  hold 
of  my  hand!"  But  the  brahmin,  knowing  that  he  was 
tricked,  drove  her  from  him  with  blows. 

Such,  we  learn,  is  the  wickedness  of  women.    What 


crime  will  they  not  commit ;  and  then,  to  deceive  their 
husbands,  what  oaths  will  they  not  take — aye,  in  the  light 
of  day — that  they  did  it  not !  So  false-hearted  are  they ! 
Therefore  has  it  been  said : 

A  sex  composed  of  wickedness  and  guile, 
Unknowable,  uncertain  as  the  path 
Of  fishes  in  the  water, — womankind 
Hold  truth  for  falsehood,  falsehood  for  the  truth ! 
As  greedily  as  cows  seek  pastures  new, 
Women,  unsated,  yearn  for  mate  on  mate. 
Thievish  and  cruel  as  a  sweet-voiced  snake, 
They  know  all  tricks  wherewith  to  gull  mankind. 

Illustrated  on  the  Bharhut  Stupa,  pi.  xxvi.  8.  In  $uk.  xv.,  a  tale  of  commonplace 
intrigue,  the  woman  when  suspected  offers  to  be  taken  before  a  yaksha.  At  the 
ordeal  her  lover  seizes  her,  as  arranged,  and  she  then  makes  the  asseveration  that 
with  the  exception  of  her  husband  and  this  man  no  man  has  ever  come  near  her.  Cf. 
the  similar  device  of  Tristram  and  Ysonde  in  Clouston,  i.  179. 


This  story  was  told  by  the  Master  while  at  Jetavana, 
about  a  certain  country-woman. 

For  it  fell  out  once  in  Kosala  that  three  men  were 
ploughing  on  the  outskirts  of  a  certain  forest,  and  that 
robbers  plundered  folk  in  that  forest  and  made  their 
escape.  The  victims  came,  in  the  course  of  a  fruitless 
search  for  the  rascals,  to  where  the  three  men  were 
ploughing.  "  Here  are  the  forest  robbers,  disguised  as 
husbandmen,"  they  cried,  and  hauled  the  trio  oif  as 
prisoners  to  the  King  of  Kosala.  Now  time  after  time 
there  came  to  the  king's  palace  a  woman  who  with  loud 
lamentations  begged  for  "wherewith  to  be  covered." 
Hearing  her  cry,  the  king  ordered  a  shift  to  be  given  her ; 
but  she  refused  it,  saying  this  was  not  what  she  meant. 
So  the  king's  servants  came  back  to  his  majesty  and  said 


that  what  the  woman  wanted  was  not  clothes  but  a  husband. 
Then  the  king  had  the  woman  brought  into  his  presence 
and  asked  her  whether  she  really  did  mean  a  husband. 

"  Yes,  sire,"  she  answered ;  "  for  a  husband  is  a  woman's 
real  covering,  and  she  that  lacks  a  husband — even  though 
she  be  clad  in  garments  costing  a  thousand  pieces — goes 
bare  and  naked  indeed." 

(And  to  enforce  this  truth,  the  following  Sutta  should 
be  recited  here : 

Like  king-less  kingdoms,  like  a  stream  run  dry, 

So  bare  and  naked  is  a  woman  seen, 

Who,  having1  brothers  ten,  yet  lacks  a  mate.) 

Pleased  with  the  woman's  answer,  the  king  asked  what 
relation  the  three  prisoners  were  to  her.  And  she  said 
that  one  was  her  husband,  one  her  brother,  and  one  her 
son.  "Well,  to  mark  my  favour,"  said  the  king,  "I  give 
you  one  of  the  three.  Which  will  you  take  ?"  "  Sire,"  was 
her  answer,  "if  I  live,  I  can  get  another  husband  and 
another  son ;  but  as  my  parents  are  dead,  I  can  never  get 
another  brother.  So  give  me  my  brother,  Sire."  Pleased 
with  the  woman,  the  king  set  all  three  men  at  liberty ;  and 
thus  this  one  woman  was  the  means  of  saving  three  persons 
from  peril. 

When  the  matter  came  to  the  knowledge  of  the  Brother- 
hood, they  were  lauding  the  woman  in  the  Hall  of  Truth, 
when  the  Master  entered.  Learning  on  enquiry  what  was 
the  subject  of  their  talk,  he  said,  "This  is  not  the  first 
time,  Brethren,  that  this  woman  has  saved  those  three 
from  peril ;  she  did  the  same  in  days  gone  by."  And,  so 
saying,  he  told  a  story  of  the  past. 

The  above  is  the  story  of  the  present,  the  story  of  the  past  being  merely  a  sum- 
mary, in  which  "  everything  came  to  pass  as  above."  It  also  forms  the  point  of  Jat. 
517  which  is  given  in  Jat.  546  (vol.  vi.  p.  242).  In  the  Rdmdyana  VL  24.  7,  8,  when 


Lakshmana  is  apparently  killed,  his  brother  Rama  says,  almost  in  the  words  of  the 
gatha  : 

Somewhere  for  me  a  wife  may  be, 

A  son,  or  even  other  kin  ; 
But  the  country  I  do  not  see 

In  which  a  brother  I  might  win. 

Cf.  the  Persian  tale  of  the  wife  of  Intaphernes  in  Hdt  in.  118,  119,  who  makes 
the  same  choice.  Soph.  Ant.  905  ff.  Pischel  (Hermes,  xxvin.  465  ff.)  considers  it 
probably  the  oldest  example  of  an  Indian  thought  in  a  Greek  dress.  A  writer  in 
Notes  and  Queries,  Nov.  17,  1866,  compares  the  words  of  Robert  of  Normandy  when 
besieging  Henry  in  Mont  St  Michel,  "What,  shall  I  suffer  my  brother  to  die  of 
thirst?  Where  shall  we  find  another  when  he  is  gone?"  (Hume,  ch.  v.),  and  the 
ballad  in  Scott,  Antiquary,  xl.  : 

He  turned  him  right  and  round  again, 

Said,  scorn  na  at  my  mither ; 
Light  loves  I  may  get  mony  a  ane, 

But  minnie  [i.e.  mother]  ne'er  anither. 


Once  on  a  time  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in  Benares. 
He  had  a  son  named  Prince  Wicked.  Fierce  and  cruel 
was  he,  like  a  scotched  snake ;  he  spoke  to  nobody  without 
abuse  or  blows.  Like  grit  in  the  eye  was  this  prince  to  all 
folk  both  within  and  without  the  palace,  or  like  a  ravening 
ogre, — so  dreaded  and  fell  was  he. 

One  day,  wishing  to  disport  himself  in  the  river,  he 
went  with  a  large  retinue  to  the  water  side.  And  a  great 
storm  came  on,  and  utter  darkness  set  in.  "  Hi  there ! " 
cried  he  to  his  servants ;  "  take  me  into  mid-stream,  bathe 
me  there,  and  then  bring  me  back  again."  So  they  took 
him  into  mid-stream  and  there  took  counsel  together, 
saying,  "  What  will  he  do  to  us  when  king  ?  Let  us  kill  the 
wicked  wretch  here  and  now !  So  in  you  go,  you  pest ! " 
they  cried,  as  they  flung  him  into  the  water.  When  they 
made  their  way  ashore,  they  were  asked  where  the  prince 
was,  and  replied,  "We  don't  see  him;  finding  the  storm 


come  on,  he  must  have  come  out  of  the  river  and  gone 
home  ahead  of  us." 

The  courtiers  went  into  the  king's  presence,  and  the 
king  asked  where  his  son  was.  "We  do  not  know,  sire," 
said  they ;  "  a  storm  came  on,  and  we  came  away  in  the 
belief  that  he  must  have  gone  on  ahead."  At  once  the 
king  had  the  gates  thrown  open ;  down  to  the  riverside  he 
went  and  bade  diligent  search  be  made  up  and  down  for 
the  missing  prince.  But  no  trace  of  him  could  be  found. 
For,  in  the  darkness  of  the  storm,  he  had  been  swept  away 
by  the  current,  and,  coming  across  a  tree-trunk,  had 
climbed  on  to  it,  and  so  floated  down  stream,  crying 
lustily  in  the  agony  of  his  fear  of  drowning. 

Now  there  had  been  a  gild-merchant  living  in  those 
days  at  Benares,  who  had  died,  leaving  forty  crores  buried 
in  the  banks  of  that  same  river.  And  because  of  his 
craving  for  riches,  he  was  re-born  as  a  snake  at  the  spot 
under  which  lay  his  dear  treasure.  And  also  in  the  self- 
same spot  another  man  had  hidden  thirty  •  crores,  and 
because  of  his  craving  for  riches1,  was  re-born  as  a  rat  at 
the  same  spot.  In  rushed  the  water  into  their  dwelling- 
place  ;  and  the  two  creatures,  escaping  by  the  way  by 
which  the  water  rushed  in,  were  making  their  wray  athwart 
the  stream,  when  they  chanced  upon  the  tree-trunk  to 
which  the  prince  was  clinging.  The  snake  climbed  up  at 
one  end,  and  the  rat  at  the  other;  and  so  both  got  a 
footing  with  the  prince  on  the  trunk. 

Also  there  grew  on  the  river's  bank  a  Silk-cotton  tree, 
in  which  lived  a  young  parrot;  and  this  tree,  being  up- 
rooted by  the  swollen  waters,  fell  into  the  river.  The 
heavy  rain  beat  down  the  parrot  when  it  tried  to  fly,  and 
it  alighted  in  its  fall  upon  this  same  tree-trunk.  And  so 

1  Cf.  Jat.  137,  p.  118. 


there  were  now  these  four  floating  down  stream  together 
upon  the  tree. 

Now  the  Bodhisatta  had  been  re-born  in  those  days  as 
a  brahmin  in  the  North-West  country.  Renouncing  the 
world  for  the  hermit's  life  on  reaching  manhood,  he  had 
built  himself  a  hermitage  by  a  bend  of  the  river;  and 
there  he  was  now  living.  As  he  was  pacing  to  and  fro,  at 
midnight,  he  heard  the  loud  cries  of  the  prince,  and 
thought  thus  within  himself:  "This  fellow-creature  must 
not  perish  thus  before  the  eyes  of  so  merciful  and  com- 
passionate a  hermit  as  I  am.  I  will  rescue  him  from  the 
water,  and  save  his  life."  So  he  shouted  cheerily,  "  Be  not 
afraid !  Be  not  afraid ! "  and  plunging  across  stream, 
seized  hold  of  the  tree  by  one  end,  and,  being  as  strong 
as  an  elephant,  drew  it  in  to  the  bank  with  one  long  pull, 
and  set  the  prince  safe  and  sound  upon  the  shore.  Then 
becoming  aware  of  the  snake  and  the  rat  and  the  parrot, 
he  carried  them  to  his  hermitage,  and  there  lighting  a  fire, 
warmed  the  animals  first,  as  being  the  weaker,  and  after- 
wards the  prince.  This  done,  he  brought  fruits  of  various 
kinds  and  set  them  before  his  guests,  looking  after  the 
animals  first  and  the  prince  afterwards.  This  enraged  the 
young  prince,  who  said  within  himself,  "This  rascally  hermit 
pays  no  respect  to  my  royal  birth,  but  actually  gives  brute 
beasts  precedence  over  me."  And  he  conceived  hatred 
against  the  Bodhisatta. 

A  few  days  later,  when  all  four  had  recovered  their 
strength  and  the  waters  had  subsided,  the  snake  bade 
farewell  to  the  hermit  with  these  words,  "Father,  you  have 
done  me  a  great  service.  I  am  not  poor,  for  I  have  forty 
crores  of  gold  hidden  at  a  certain  spot.  Should  you  ever 
want  money,  all  my  hoard  shall  be  yours.  You  have  only 
to  come  to  the  spot  and  call  '  Snake.' '  Next  the  rat  took 


his  leave  with  a  like  promise  to  the  hermit  as  to  his 
treasure,  bidding  the  hermit  come  and  call  out  "  Rat." 
Then  the  parrot  bade  farewell,  saying,  "  Father,  silver  and 
gold  have  I  none;  but  should  you  ever  want  for  choice 
rice,  come  to  where  I  dwell  and  call  out  'Parrot';  and 
I  with  the  aid  of  my  kinsfolk  will  give  you  many  waggon- 
loads  of  rice."  Last  came  the  prince.  His  heart  was  filled 
with  base  ingratitude  and  with  a  determination  to  put  his 
benefactor  to  death,  if  the  Bodhisatta  should  come  to  visit 
him.  But,  concealing  his  intent,  he  said,  "Come,  father,  to 
me  when  I  am  king,  and  I  will  bestow  on  you  the  Four 
Requisites."  So  saying,  he  took  his  departure,  and  not 
long  after  succeeded  to  the  throne. 

The  desire  came  on  the  Bodhisatta  to  put  their  pro- 
fessions to  the  test ;  and  first  of  all  he  went  to  the  snake 
and  standing  hard  by  its  abode,  called  out  "  Snake."  At 
the  word  the  snake  darted  forth  and  with  every  mark  of 
respect  said,  "  Father,  in  this  place  there  are  forty  crores 
in  gold.  Dig  them  up  and  take  them  all."  "  It  is  well," 
said  the  Bodhisatta ;  "when  I  need  them,  I  will  not  forget." 
Then  bidding  adieu  to  the  snake,  he  went  on  to  where  the 
rat  lived,  and  called  out  "  Rat."  And  the  rat  did  as  the 
snake  had  done.  Going  next  to  the  parrot,  and  calling 
out  "  Parrot,"  the  bird  at  once  flew  down  at  his  call  from 
the  tree-top,  and  respectfully  asked  whether  it  was  the 
Bodhisatta's  wish  that  he  with  the  aid  of  his  kinsfolk 
should  gather  paddy  for  the  Bodhisatta  from  the  region 
round  the  Himalayas.  The  Bodhisatta  dismissed  the 
parrot  also  with  a  promise  that,  if  need  arose,  he  would 
not  forget  the  bird's  offer.  Last  of  all,  being  minded  to 
test  the  king  in  his  turn,  the  Bodhisatta  came  to  the  royal 
pleasaunce,  and  on  the  day  after  his  arrival  made  his  way, 
carefully  dressed,  into  the  city  on  his  round  for  alms. 


Just  at  that  moment,  the  ungrateful  king,  seated  in  all  his 
royal  splendour  on  his  elephant  of  state,  was  passing  in 
rightwise  procession  round  the  city  followed  by  a  vast 
retinue.  Seeing  the  Bodhisatta  from  afar,  he  thought  to 
himself,  "  Here's  that  rascally  hermit  come  to  quarter  him- 
self and  his  appetite  on  me.  I  must  have  his  head  off 
before  he  can  publish  to  the  world  the  service  he  rendered 
me."  With  this  intent,  he  signed  to  his  attendants,  aud, 
on  their  asking  what  was  his  pleasure,  said,  "Methinks 
yonder  rascally  hermit  is  here  to  importune  me.  See  that 
the  ill-omened  ascetic  does  not  look  at  me,  but  seize  and 
bind  him ;  flog  him  at  every  street-corner ;  and  then  march 
him  out  of  the  city,  chop  off  his  head  at  the  place  of 
execution,  and  impale  his  body  on  a  stake." 

Obedient  to  their  king's  command,  the  attendants  laid 
the  innocent  Great  Being  in  bonds  and  flogged  him  at 
every  street-corner  on  the  way  to  the  place  of  execution. 
But  all  their  floggings  failed  to  move  the  Bodhisatta  or  to 
wring  from  him  any  cry  of  "  Oh,  my  mother  and  father  ! " 
All  he  did  was  to  repeat  this  stanza : 

They  knew  the  world,  who  framed  this  proverb  true— 
"A  log  pays  better  salvage  than  some  men." 

These  lines  he  repeated  wherever  he  was  flogged,  till  at 
last  the  wise  among  the  bystanders  asked  the  hermit  what 
service  he  had  rendered  to  their  king.  Then  the  Bod- 
hisatta told  the  whole  story,  ending  with  the  words, — "So 
it  comes  to  pass  that  by  rescuing  him  from  the  torrent 
I  brought  all  this  woe  upon  myself.  And  when  I  bethink 
me  how  I  have  left  unheeded  the  words  of  the  wise  of  old, 
I  exclaim  as  you  have  heard." 

Filled  with  indignation  at  the  recital,  the  nobles  and 
brahmins  and  all  classes  with  one  accord  cried  out,  "  This 
ungrateful  king  does  not  recognise  even  the  goodness  of 


this  good  man  who  saved  his  majesty's  life.  How  can  we 
have  any  profit  from  this  king  ?  Seize  the  tyrant ! "  And 
in  their  anger  they  rushed  upon  the  king  from  every  side, 
and  slew  him  there  and  then,  as  he  rode  on  his  elephant, 
with  arrows  and  javelins  and  stones  and  clubs  and  any 
weapons  that  came  to  hand.  The  corpse  they  dragged  by 
the  heels  to  a  ditch  and  flung  it  in.  Then  they  anointed 
the  Bodhisatta  king  and  set  him  to  rule  over  them. 

As  he  was  ruling  in  righteousness,  one  day  the  desire 
came  on  him  again  to  try  the  snake  and  the  rat  and  the 
parrot ;  and  followed  by  a  large  retinue,  he  came  to  where 
the  snake  dwelt.  At  the  call  of  "Snake,"  out  came  the 
snake  from  his  hole  and  with  every  mark  of  respect  said, 
"  Here,  my  lord,  is  your  treasure ;  take  it."  Then  the  king 
delivered  the  forty  crores  of  gold  to  his  attendants,  and 
proceeding  to  where  the  rat  dwelt,  called  "Rat."  Out 
came  the  rat,  and  saluted  the  king,  and  gave  up  its  thirty 
crores.  Placing  this  treasure  too  in  the  hands  of  his 
attendants,  the  king  went  on  to  where  the  parrot  dwelt, 
and  called  "  Parrot."  And  in  like  manner  the  bird  came, 
and  bowing  down  at  the  king's  feet  asked  whether  it 
should  collect  rice  for  his  majesty.  "  We  will  not  trouble 
you,"  said  the  king,  "till  rice  is  needed.  Now  let  us  be 
going/'  So  with  the  seventy  crores  of  gold,  and  with  the 
rat,  the  snake,  and  the  parrot  as  well,  the  king  journeyed 
back  to  the  city.  Here,  in  a  noble  palace,  to  the  state- 
story  of  which  he  mounted,  he  caused  the  treasure  to  be 
lodged  and  guarded ;  he  had  a  golden  tube  made  for  the 
snake  to  dwell  in,  a  crystal  casket  to  house  the  rat,  and 
a  cage  of  gold  for  the  parrot.  Every  day  too  by  the  king's 
command  food  was  served  to  the  three  creatures  in  vessels 
of  gold, — sweet  parched-corn  for  the  parrot  and  snake, 
and  scented  rice  for  the  rat.  And  the  king  abounded 


in  charity  and  all  good  works.  Thus  in  harmony  and 
goodwill  one  with  another,  these  four  lived  their  lives ;  and 
when  their  end  came,  they  passed  away  to  fare  according 
to  their  deserts. 

A  much  modified  version  of  The  grateful  Beasts  and  the  ungrateful  Man,  P. 
(B.)  I.,  Suppl.  ii.,  K.  D.  (Arab.)  ch.  xvn.  where  the  ungrateful  man  is  a  goldsmith,  and 
the  gratitude  of  the  tiger  and  snake  is  skilfully  made  the  means  of  saving  the  brahmin 
and  bringing  punishment  on  the  ungrateful  man.  In  Som.  LXV.  (ii.  103)  the  tale  is 
a  jataka,  and  the  ungrateful  person  a  woman.  Tib.  T.  xxvi.  is  more  closely  related 
to  P.  than  to  the  jataka.  Gesta  Rom.  119  (111).  Cf.  Clouston,  i.  223,  The  thankful 


This  story  was  told  by  the  Master  while  at  Jetavana 
about  sixteen  wonderful  dreams.  For  in  the  last  watch 
of  one  night  (so  tradition  says)  the  King  of  Kosala,  who 
had  been  asleep  all  the  night,  dreamed  sixteen  great 
dreams,  and  woke  up  in  great  fright  and  alarm  as  to  what 
they  might  portend  for  him.  So  strong  was  the  fear  of 
death  upon  him  that  he  could  not  stir,  but  lay  there 
huddled  up  on  his  bed.  Now7,  when  the  night  grew  light, 
his  brahmins  and  chaplains  came  to  him  and  with  due 
obeisance  asked  whether  his  majesty  had  slept  well. 

"  How  could  I  sleep  well,  my  directors  ? "  answered  the 
king.  "For  just  at  daybreak  I  dreamed  sixteen  wonderful 
dreams,  and  I  have  been  in  terror  ever  since !  Tell  me,  my 
directors,  what  it  all  means." 

"We  shall  be  able  to  judge,  on  hearing  them." 

Then  the  king  told  them  his  dreams,  and  asked  what 
those  visions  would  entail  upon  him. 

The  brahmins  fell  a-wringing  their  hands !  "  Why  wring 
your  hands,  brahmins  ? "  asked  the  king.  "  Because,  sire, 
these  are  evil  dreams."  "  What  will  come  of  them  ? "  said 


the  king.  "  One  of  three  calamities, — harm  to  your  king- 
dom, to  your  life,  or  to  your  riches."  "  Is  there  a  remedy, 
or  is  there  not  ? '  "  Undoubtedly  these  dreams  in  them- 
selves are  so  threatening  as  to  be  without  remedy;  but 
none  the  less  we  will  find  a  remedy  for  them.  Otherwise, 
what  boots  our  much  study  and  learning  ? '  "  What  then 
do  you  propose  to  do  to  avert  the  evil  ? "  "  Wherever  four 
roads  meet,  we  would  offer  sacrifice,  sire."  "  My  directors," 
cried  the  king  in  his  terror,  "my  life  is  in  your  hands; 
make  haste  and  work  my  safety."  "  Large  sums  of  money, 
and  large  supplies  of  food  of  every  kind  will  be  ours," 
thought  the  exultant  brahmins ;  and,  bidding  the  king 
have  no  fear,  they  departed  from  the  palace.  Outside 
the  town  they  dug  a  sacrificial  pit  and  collected  a  host  of 
fourfooted  creatures,  perfect  and  without  blemish,  and 
a  multitude  of  birds.  But  still  they  discovered  something 
lacking,  and  back  they  kept  coming  to  the  king  to  ask  for 
this  that  and  the  other.  Now  their  doings  were  watched 
by  Queen  Mallika,  who  came  to  the  king  and  asked  what 
made  these  brahmins  keep  coming  to  him. 

"  I  envy  you,"  said  the  king ;  "  a  snake  in  your  ear,  and 
you  not  to  know  of  it!"  "What  does  your  majesty 
mean ? "  "I  have  dreamed,  oh  such  unlucky  dreams ! 
The  brahmins  tell  me  they  point  to  one  of  three  calamities ; 
and  they  are  anxious  to  offer  sacrifices  to  avert  the  evil. 
And  this  is  what  brings  them  here  so  often."  "But  has 
your  majesty  consulted  the  Chief  Brahmin  both  of  this 
world  and  of  the  world  of  gods  ? "  "  Who,  pray,  may  he 
be,  my  dear  ? "  asked  the  king.  "  Know  you  not  that 
chiefest  personage  of  all  the  world,  the  all-knoAving  and 
pure,  the  spotless  master-brahmin  ?  Surely,  he,  the  Lord 
Buddha,  will  understand  your  dreams.  Go,  ask  him."  "  And 
so  I  will,  my  queen,"  said  the  king.  And  away  he  went  to 


the  monastery,  saluted  the  Master,  and  sat  down.  "  What, 
pray,  brings  your  majesty  here  so  early  in  the  morning?" 
asked  the  Master  in  his  sweet  tones.  "  Sir,"  said  the  king, 
"just  before  daybreak  I  dreamed  sixteen  wonderful 
dreams,  which  so  terrified  me  that  I  told  them  to  the 
brahmins.  They  told  me  that  my  dreams  boded  evil,  and 
that  to  avert  the  threatened  calamity  they  must  offer 
sacrifice  wherever  four  roads  met.  And  so  they  are  busy 
writh  then*  preparations,  and  many  living  creatures  have 
the  fear  of  death  before  their  eyes.  But  I  pray  you,  who 
are  the  chiefest  personage  in  the  world  of  men  and  gods, 
you  into  whose  ken  comes  all  possible  knowledge  of  things 
past  and  present  and  to  be, — I  pray  you  tell  me  what  will 
come  of  my  dreams,  Lord." 

"  True  it  is,  sire,  that  there  is  none  other  save  me,  who 
can  tell  what  your  dreams  signify  or  what  will  come  of 
them.  I  will  tell  you.  Only  first  of  all  relate  to  me  your 
dreams  as  they  appeared  to  you." 

"  I  will,  sir,"  said  the  king,  and  at  once  began  this  list, 
following  the  order  of  the  dreams'  appearance : 

Bulls  first,  and  trees,  and  cows,  and  calves, 

Horse,  dish,  she-jackal,  waterpot, 

A  pond,  raw  rice,  and  sandal-wood, 

And  gourds  that  sank,  and  stones  that  swam, 

"With  frogs  that  gobbled  up  black  snakes, 

A  crow  with  gold-plumed  retinue, 

And  wolves  in  panic-fear  of  goats ! 

"  How  was  it,  sir,  that  I  had  the  following  one  of  my 
dreams?  Methought,  four  black  bulls,  like  collyrium  in 
hue,  came  from  the  four  cardinal  directions  to  the  royal 
courtyard  with  avowed  intent  to  fight ;  and  people  flocked 
together  to  see  the  bull-fight,  till  a  great  crowd  had 
gathered.  But  the  bulls  only  made  a  show  of  fighting, 
roared  and  bellowed,  and  finally  went  off  without  fighting 


at  all.  This  was  my  first  dream.  What  will  come 
of  it  ? " 

"  Sire,  that  dream  shall  have  no  issue  in  your  days  or 
in  mine.  But  hereafter,  when  kings  shall  be  niggardly  and 
unrighteous,  and  when  folk  shall  be  unrighteous,  in  days 
when  the  world  is  perverted,  when  good  is  waning  and  evil 
waxing  apace, — in  those  days  of  the  world's  backsliding 
there  shall  fall  no  rain  from  the  heavens,  the  feet  of  the 
storm  shall  be  lamed,  the  crops  shall  wither,  and  famine 
shall  be  on  the  land.  Then  shall  the  clouds  gather  as  if 
for  rain  from  the  four  quarters  of  the  heavens ;  there  shall 
be  haste  first  to  carry  indoors  the  rice  and  crops  that  the 
women  have  spread  in  the  sun  to  dry,  for  fear  the  harvest 
should  get  wet ;  and  then  with  spade  and  basket  in  hand 
the  men  shall  go  forth  to  bank  up  the  dykes.  As  though 
in  sign  of  coming  rain,  the  thunder  shall  bellow,  the 
lightning  shall  flash  from  the  clouds, — but  even  as  the 
bulls  in  your  dream,  that  fought  not,  so  the  clouds  shall 
flee  away  without  raining.  This  is  what  shall  come  of  this 
dream.  But  no  harm  shall  come  therefrom  to  you ;  for  it 
was  with  regard  to  the  future  that  you  dreamed  this 
dream.  What  the  brahmins  told  you,  was  said  only  to  get 
themselves  a  livelihood."  And  when  the  Master  had  thus 
told  the  fulfilment  of  this  dream,  he  said,  "  Tell  me  your 
second  dream,  sire." 

"  Sir,"  said  the  king,  "  my  second  dream  was  after  this 
manner:  Methought  little  tiny  trees  and  shrubs  burst 
through  the  soil,  and  wiien  they  had  grown  scarce  a  span 
or  two  high,  they  flowered  and  bore  fruit !  This  was  my 
second  dream  ;  what  shall  come  of  it  ? " 

"Sire,"  said  the  Master,  "this  dream  shall  have  its 
fulfilment  in  days  when  the  world  has  fallen  into  decay 
and  when  men  are  shortlived.  In  times  to  come  the 

F.   &T.  6 


passions  shall  be  strong ;  quite  young  girls  shall  go  to  live 
with  men,  it  shall  be  with  them  after  the  manner  of  women, 
and  they  shall  conceive  and  bear  children.  The  flowers 
typify  their  issues,  and  the  fruit  their  offspring.  But  you, 
sire,  have  nothing  to  fear  therefrom.  Tell  me  your  third 
dream,  O  great  king." 

"  Methought,  sir,  I  saw  cows  sucking  the  milk  of  calves 
which  they  had  borne  that  selfsame  day.  This  was  my 
third  dream.  What  shall  come  of  it  ? " 

"  This  dream  too  shall  have  its  fulfilment  only  in  days 
to  come,  when  respect  shall  cease  to  be  paid  to  age.  For 
in  the  future  men,  shewing  no  reverence  for  parents  or 
parents-in-law,  shall  themselves  administer  the  family 
estate,  and,  if  such  be  their  good  pleasure,  shall  bestow 
food  and  clothing  on  the  old  folks,  but  shall  withhold  their 
gifts,  if  it  be  not  their  pleasure  to  give.  Then  shall  the  old 
folks,  destitute  and  dependent,  exist  by  favour  of  their  own 
children,  like  big  cows  suckled  by  calves  a  day  old.  But 
you  have  nothing  to  fear  therefrom.  Tell  me  your  fourth 

"Methought,  sir,  I  saw  men  unyoking  a  team  of 
draught-oxen,  sturdy  and  strong,  and  setting  young  steers 
to  draw  the  load ;  and  the  steers,  proving  unequal  to  the 
task  laid  on  them,  refused  and  stood  stock-still,  so  that 
wains  moved  not  on  their  way.  This  was  my  fourth  dream. 
What  shall  come  of  it  ? " 

"Here  again  the  dream  shall  not  have  its  fulfilment 
until  the  future,  in  the  days  of  unrighteous  kings.  For  in 
days  to  come,  unrighteous  and  niggardly  kings  shall  shew 
no  honour  to  wise  lords  skilled  in  precedent,  fertile  in 
expedient,  and  able  to  get  through  business;  nor  shall 
appoint  to  the  courts  of  law  and  justice  aged  councillors 
of  wisdom  and  of  learning  in  the  law.  Nay,  they  shall 


honour  the  very  young  and  foolish,  and  appoint  such  to 
preside  in  the  courts.  And  these  latter,  ignorant  alike  of 
state-craft  and  of  practical  knowledge,  shall  not  be  able  to 
bear  the  burthen  of  their  honours  or  to  govern,  but  because 
of  their  incompetence  shall  throw  off  the  yoke  of  office. 
Whereon  the  aged  and  wise  lords,  albeit  right  able  to  cope 
with  all  difficulties,  shall  keep  in  mind  how  they  were 
passed  over,  and  shall  decline  to  aid,  saying :  '  It  is  no 
business  of  ours;  we  are  outsiders;  let  the  boys  of  the 
inner  circle  see  to  it.'  Hence  they  shall  stand  aloof,  and 
ruin  shall  assail  those  kings  on  every  hand.  It  shall  be 
even  as  when  the  yoke  was  laid  on  the  young  steers,  who 
were  not  strong  enough  for  the  burthen,  and  not  upon  the 
team  of  sturdy  and  strong  draught-oxen,  who  alone  were 
able  to  do  the  work.  Howbeit,  you  have  nothing  to  fear 
therefrom.  Tell  me  your  fifth  dream." 

"  Methought,  sir,  I  saw  a  horse  with  a  mouth  on  either 
side,  to  which  fodder  was  given  on  both  sides,  and  it  ate 
with  both  its  mouths.  This  was  my  fifth  dream.  What 
shall  come  of  it?" 

"  This  dream  too  shall  have  its  fulfilment  only  in  the 
future,  in  the  days  of  unrighteous  and  foolish  kings,  who 
shall  appoint  unrighteous  and  covetous  men  to  be  judges. 
These  base  ones,  fools,  despising  the  good,  shall  take  bribes 
from  both  sides  as  they  sit  in  the  seat  of  judgment,  and 
shall  be  filled  with  this  twofold  corruption,  evea  as  the 
horse  that  ate  fodder  with  two  mouths  at  once.  Howbeit, 
you  have  nothing  to  fear  therefrom.  Tell  me  your  sixth 

"Methought,  sir,  I  saw  people  holding  out  a  well- 
scoured  golden  bowl  worth  a  hundred  thousand  pieces,  and 
begging  an  old  jackal  to  stale  therein.  And  I  saw  the  beast 
do  so.  This  was  my  sixth  dream.  What  shall  come  of  it  ? " 



"This  dream  too  shall  only  have  its  fulfilment  in  the 


future.  For  in  the  days  to  come,  unrighteous  kings, 
though  sprung  of  a  race  of  kings,  mistrusting  the  scions 
of  their  old  nobility,  shall  not  honour  them,  but  exalt  in 
their  stead  the  low-born;  whereby  the  nobles  shall  be 
brought  low  and  the  low-born  raised  to  lordship.  Then 
shall  the  great  families  be  brought  by  very  need  to  seek 
to  live  by  dependence  on  the  upstarts,  and  shall  offer  them 
their  daughters  in  marriage.  And  the  union  of  the  noble 
maidens  with  the  low-born  shall  be  like  unto  the  staling  of 
the  old  jackal  in  the  golden  bowl.  Howbeit,  you  have 
nothing  to  fear  therefrom.  Tell  me  your  seventh  dream." 

"A  man  was  weaving  rope,  sir,  and  as  he  wove,  he  threw 
it  down  at  his  feet.  Under  his  bench  lay  a  hungry  she- 
jackal,  which  kept  eating  the  rope  as  he  wove,  but  without 
the  man  knowing  it.  This  is  what  I  saw.  This  was  my 
seventh  dream.  What  shall  come  of  it?"1 

"This  dream  too  shall  not  have  its  fulfilment  till  the 
future.  For  in  days  to  come,  women  shall  lust  after  men 
and  strong  drink  and  finery  and  gadding  abroad  and  after 
the  joys  of  this  world.  In  their  wickedness  and  profligacy 
these  women  shall  drink  strong  drink  with  their  para- 
mours; they  shall  flaunt  in  garlands  and  perfumes  and 
unguents ;  and  heedless  of  even  the  most  pressing  of  their 
household  duties,  they  shall  keep  watching  for  their 
paramours,  even  at  crevices  high  up  in  the  outer  wall ; 
aye,  they  shall  pound  up  the  very  seed-corn  that  should 
be  sown  on  the  morrow  so  as  to  provide  good  cheer ; — in 
all  these  ways  shall  they  plunder  the  store  won  by  the 
hard  work  of  their  husbands  in  field  and  byre,  devouring 

1  In  one  of  the  paintings  of  Polygnotus  in  the  Lesche  at  Delphi  Pausanias  (x.  29) 
describes  a  figure  of  Indolence  (Oknos),  represented  as  plaiting  a  rope,  which  a  she- 
ass  furtively  eats  as  fast  as  he  plaits  it.  See  Frazer  ad  loc.,  who  mentions  six 
existing  representations  of  the  subject  in  ancient  art. 


the  poor  men's  substance  even  as  the  hungry  jackal  under 
the  bench  ate  up  the  rope  of  the  rope-maker  as  he  wove  it. 
Howbeit,  you  have  nothing  to  fear  therefrom.  Tell  me 
your  eighth  dream." 

"  Methought,  sir,  I  saw  at  a  palace  gate  a  big  pitcher 
which  was  full  to  the  brim  and  stood  amid  a  number 
of  empty  ones.  And  from  the  four  cardinal  points,  and 
from  the  four  intermediate  points  as  well,  there  kept 
coming  a  constant  stream  of  people  of  all  the  four  castes, 
carrying  water  in  pipkins  and  pouring  it  into  the  full 
pitcher.  And  the  water  overflowed  and  ran  away.  But 
none  the  less  they  still  kept  on  pouring  more  and  more 
water  into  the  overflowing  vessel,  without  a  single  man 
giving  so  much  as  a  glance  at  the  empty  pitchers.  This 
was  my  eighth  dream.  What  shall  come  of  it  ? " 

"  This  dream  too  shall  not  have  its  fulfilment  until  the 
future.  For  in  days  to  come  the  world  shall  decay;  the 
kingdom  shall  grow  weak,  its  kings  shall  grow  poor  and 
niggardly ;  the  foremost  among  them  shall  have  no  more 
than  100,000  pieces  of  money  in  his  treasury.  Then  shall 
these  kings  in  their  need  set  the  whole  of  the  country-folk 
to  work  for  them; — for  the  kings'  sake  shall  the  toiling 
folk,  leaving  their  own  work,  sow  grain  and  pulse,  and  keep 
watch  and  reap  and  thresh  and  garner ;  for  the  kings'  sake 
shall  they  plant  sugar-canes,  make  and  drive  sugar-mills, 
and  boil  down  the  molasses ;  for  the  kings'  sake  shall  they 
lay  out  flower-gardens  and  orchards,  and  gather  in  the 
fruits.  And  as  they  gather  in  all  the  divers  kinds  of 

«/       d7 

produce  they  shall  fill  the  royal  garners  to  overflowing,  not 
giving  so  much  as  a  glance  at  their  own  empty  barns  at 
home.  Thus  it  shall  be  like  filling  up  the  full  pitcher, 
heedless  of  the  quite-empty  ones.  Howbeit,  you  have 
nothing  to  fear  therefrom.  Tell  me  your  ninth  dream." 


"  Methought,  sir,  I  saw  a  deep  pool  with  shelving  banks 
all  round  and  overgrown  with  the  five  kinds  of  lotuses. 
From  every  side  two-footed  creatures  and  four-footed 
creatures  flocked  thither  to  drink  of  its  waters.  The 
depths  in  the  middle  were  muddy,  but  the  water  was  clear 
and  sparkling  at  the  margin  where  the  various  creatures 
went  down  into  the  pool.  This  was  my  ninth  dream. 
What  shall  come  of  it  ? " 

"This  dream  too  shall  not  have  its  fulfilment  till  the 
future.  For  in  days  to  come  kings  shall  grow  unrighteous ; 
they  shall  rule  after  their  own  will  and  pleasure,  and  shall 
not  execute  judgment  according  to  righteousness.  These 
kings  shall  hunger  after  riches  and  wax  fat  on  bribes; 
they  shall  not  shew  mercy,  love  and  compassion  toward 
their  people,  but  be  fierce  and  cruel,  amassing  wealth  by 
crushing  their  subjects  like  sugar-canes  in  a  mill  and  by 
taxing  them  even  to  the  uttermost  farthing.  Unable  to 
pay  the  oppressive  tax,  the  people  shall  fly  from  village 
and  town  and  the  like,  and  take  refuge  upon  the  borders 
of  the  realm ;  the  heart  of  the  land  shall  be  a  Avilderness, 
while  the  borders  shall  teem  with  people, — even  as  the 
water  was  muddy  in  the  middle  of  the  pool  and  clear  at 
the  margin.  Howbeit,  you  have  nothing  to  fear  therefrom. 
Tell  me  your  tenth  dream." 

"Methought,  sir,  I  saw  rice  boiling  in  a  pot  without 
getting  done.  By  not  getting  done,  I  mean  that  it  looked 
as  though  it  were  sharply  marked  off'  and  kept  apart,  so 
that  the  cooking  went  on  in  three  distinct  stages.  For  part 
was  sodden,  part  hard  and  raw,  and  part  just  cooked  to  a 
nicety.  This  was  my  tenth  dream.  What  shall  come  of  it  ? " 

"This  dream  too  shall  not  have  its  fulfilment  till  the 
future.  For  in  days  to  come  kings  shall  grow  unrighteous ; 
the  people  surrounding  the  kings  shall  grow  unrighteous 


too,  as  also  shall  brahmins  and  householders,  townsmen, 
and  country-folk;  yes,  all  people  alike  shall  grow  un- 
righteous, not  excepting  even  sages  and  brahmins.  Next, 
their  very  tutelary  deities — the  spirits  to  whom  they  offer 
sacrifice,  the  spirits  of  the  trees,  and  the  spirits  of  the  air 
— shall  become  unrighteous  also.  The  very  winds  that 
blow  over  the  realms  of  these  unrighteous  kings  shall 
grow  cruel  and  lawless ;  they  shall  shake  the  mansions  of 
the  skies  and  thereby  kindle  the  anger  of  the  spirits  that 
dwell  there,  so  that  they  will  not  suffer  rain  to  fall — or,  if 
it  does  rain,  it  shall  not  fall  on  all  the  kingdom  at  once, 
nor  shall  the  kindly  shower  fall  on  all  tilled  or  sown  lands 
alike  to  help  them  in  their  need.  And,  as  in  the  kingdom 
at  large,  so  in  each  several  district  and  village  and  over 
each  separate  pool  or  lake,  the  rain  shall  not  fall  at  one 
and  the  same  time  on  its  whole  expanse ;  if  it  rain  on  the 
upper  part,  it  shall  not  rain  upon  the  lower;  here  the 
crops  shall  be  spoiled  by  a  heavy  downpour,  there  wither 
for  very  drought,  and  here  again  thrive  apace  with  kindly 
showers  to  water  them.  So  the  crops  sown  within  the 
confines  of  a  single  kingdom — like  the  rice  in  the  one  pot 
-shall  have  no  uniform  character.  Howbeit,  you  have 
nothing  to  fear  therefrom.  Tell  me  vour  eleventh  dream." 


"  Methought,  sir,  I  saw  sour  butter-milk  bartered  for 
precious  sandal-wood,  worth  100,000  pieces  of  money. 
This  was  my  eleventh  dream.  What  shall  come  of  it?" 

"This  dream  too  shall  not  have  its  fulfilment  till  the 
future— in  the  days  when  my  doctrine  is  waning.  For  in 
days  to  come  many  greedy  and  shameless  Brethren  shall 
arise,  who  for  their  belly's  sake  shall  preach  the  very 
words  in  which  I  inveighed  against  greed !  Because  they 
have  deserted  by  reason  of  their  belly  and  have  taken 
their  stand  on  the  side  of  the  heretics,  they  shall  fail 


to  make  their  preaching  lead  up  to  Nirvana.  Nay,  their 
only  thought,  as  they  preach,  shall  be  by  fine  words  and 
sweet  voices  to  induce  men  to  give  them  costly  raiment 
and  the  like,  and  to  be  minded  to  give  such  gifts.  Others 
again  seated  in  the  highways,  at  the  street-corners,  at  the 
doors  of  kings'  palaces,  and  so  forth,  shall  stoop  to  preach 
for  money,  yea  for  mere  coined  kahapanas,  half-kahapanas, 
padas,  or  masakas !  And  as  they  thus  barter  away  for 
food  or  raiment  or  for  kahapanas  and  half-kahapanas  my 
doctrine  the  worth  whereof  is  Nirvana,  they  shall  be  even 
as  those  who  bartered  away  for  sour  butter-milk  precious 
sandal-wood  worth  100,000  pieces.  Howbeit,  you  have 
nothing  to  fear  therefrom.  Tell  me  your  twelfth  dream." 

"  Methought,  sir,  I  saw  empty  pumpkins  sinking  in  the 
water.  What  shall  come  of  it  ? " 

"  This  dream  also  shall  not  have  its  fulfilment  till  the 
future,  in  the  days  of  unrighteous  kings,  when  the  world  is 
perverted.  For  in  those  days  shall  kings  shew  favour  not 
to  the  scions  of  the  nobilitv,  but  to  the  low-born  onlv;  and 

*/  *  •/    •* 

these  latter  shall  become  great  lords,  whilst  the  nobles 
sink  into  poverty.  Alike  in  the  royal  presence,  in  the 
palace  gates,  in  the  council  chamber,  and  in  the  courts  of 
justice,  the  words  of  the  low-born  alone  (whom  the  empty 
pumpkins  typify)  shall  be  stablished,  as  though  they  had 
sunk  down  till  they  rested  on  the  bottom.  So  too  in  the 
assemblies  of  the  Brotherhood,  in  the  greater  and  lesser 
conclaves,  and  in  enquiries  regarding  bowls,  robes,  lodging, 
and  the  like, — the  counsel  only  of  the  wicked  and  the  vile 
shall  be  considered  to  have  saving  power,  not  that  of  the 
modest  Brethren.  Thus  everywhere  it  shall  be  as  when 
the  empty  pumpkins  sank.  Howbeit,  you  have  nothing  to 
fear  therefrom.  Tell  me  your  thirteenth  dream." 

Hereupon  the  king  said,  "Methought,  sir,  I  saw  huge 


blocks  of  solid  rock,  as  big  as  houses,  floating  like  ships 
upon  the  waters.  What  shall  come  of  it  ? " 

"This  dream  also  shall  not  have  its  fulfilment  before 
such  times  as  those  of  which  I  have  spoken.  For  in  those 
days  unrighteous  kings  shall  shew  honour  to  the  low-born, 
who  shall  become  great  lords,  whilst  the  nobles  sink  into 
poverty.  Not  to  the  nobles,  but  to  the  upstarts  alone 
shall  respect  be  paid.  In  the  royal  presence,  in  the 
council  chamber,  or  in  the  courts  of  justice,  the  words  of 
the  nobles  learned  in  the  law  (and  it  is  they  whom  the 
solid  rocks  typify)  shall  drift  idly  by,  and  not  sink  deep 
into  the  hearts  of  men ;  when  they  speak,  the  upstarts 
shall  merely  laugh  them  to  scorn,  saying,  'What  is  this 
these  fellows  are  saying?'  So  too  in  the  assemblies  of 
the  Brethren,  as  afore  said,  men  shall  not  deem  worthy  of 
respect  the  excellent  among  the  Brethren ;  the  words  of 
such  shall  not  sink  deep,  but  drift  idly  by, — even  as  when 
the  rocks  floated  upon  the  waters.  Howbeit,  you  have 
nothing  to  fear  therefrom.  Tell  me  your  fourteenth  dream." 

"Methought,  sir,  I  saw  tiny  frogs,  no  bigger  than 
minute  flowerets,  swiftly  pursuing  huge  black  snakes, 
chopping  them  up  like  so  many  lotus-stalks  and  gobbling 
them  up.  What  shall  come  of  this  ? " 

"  This  dream  too  shall  not  have  its  fulfilment  till  those 
days  to  come  such  as  those  of  which  I  have  spoken,  when 
the  world  is  decaying.  For  then  shall  men's  passions  be 
so  strong,  and  their  lusts  so  hot,  that  they  shall  be  the 
thralls  of  the  very  youngest  of  their  wives  for  the  time 
being,  at  whose  sole  disposal  shall  be  slaves  and  hired 
servants,  oxen,  buffaloes  and  all  cattle,  gold  and  silver,  and 
everything  that  is  in  the  house.  Should  the  poor  husband 
ask  where  the  money  (say)  or  a  robe  is,  at  once  he  shall 
be  told  that  it  is  where  it  is,  that  he  should  mind  his  own 


business,  and  not  be  so  inquisitive  as  to  what  is,  or  is  not, 
in  her  house.  And  therewithal  in  divers  ways  the  wives 
with  abuse  and  goading  taunts  shall  establish  their 
dominion  over  their  husbands,  as  over  slaves  and  bond- 
servants. Thus  shall  it  be  like  as  when  the  tiny  frogs,  no 
bigger  than  minute  flowerets,  gobbled  up  the  big  black 
snakes.  Howbeit,  you  have  nothing  to  fear  therefrom. 
Tell  me  your  fifteenth  dream." 

"Methought,  sir,  I  saw  a  village  crow,  hi  which  dwelt 
the  whole  of  the  Ten  Vices,  escorted  by  a  retinue  of  those 
birds  wrhich,  because  of  their  golden  sheen,  are  called 
Royal  Golden  Mallards.  What  shall  come  of  it  ? " 

"This  dream  too  shall  not  have  its  fulfilment  till  the 
future,  till  the  reign  of  weakling  kings.  In  days  to  come 
kings  shall  arise  who  shall  know  nothing  about  elephants 
or  other  arts,  and  shall  be  cowards  in  the  field.  Fearing 
to  be  deposed  and  cast  from  their  royal  estate,  they  shall 
raise  to  power  not  their  peers  but  their  footmen,  bath- 
attendants,  barbers,  and  such  like.  Thus,  shut  out  from 
royal  favour  and  unable  to  support  themselves,  the  nobles 
shall  be  reduced  to  dancing  attendance  on  the  upstarts,  - 
as  when  the  crow  had  Royal  Golden  Swans  for  a  retinue. 
Howbeit,  you  have  nothing  to  fear  therefrom.  Tell  me 
your  sixteenth  dream." 

"  Heretofore,  sir,  it  always  used  to  be  panthers  that 
preyed  on  goats;  but  methought  I  saw  goats  chasing 
panthers  and  devouring  them — munch,  munch,  munch  !- 
whilst  at  bare  sight  of  the  goats  afar  oft',  terror-stricken 
wolves  fled  quaking  with  fear  and  hid  themselves  in  their 
fastnesses  in  the  thicket.  Such  wTas  my  dream.  What 
shall  come  of  it  ? " 

"This  dream  too  shall  not  have  its  fulfilment  till  the 
future,  till  the  reign  of  unrighteous  kings.  In  those  days 


the  low-born  shall  be  raised  to  lordship  and  be  made  royal 
favourites,  whilst  the  nobles  shall  sink  into  obscurity  and 
distress.  Gaining  influence  in  the  courts  of  law  because 
of  their  favour  with  the  king,  these  upstarts  shall  claim 
perforce  the  ancestral  estates,  the  raiment,  and  all  the 
property  of  the  old  nobility.  And  when  these  latter 
plead  their  rights  before  the  courts,  then  shall  the  king's 
minions  have  them  cudgelled  and  bastinadoed  and  taken 
by  the  throat  and  cast  out  with  words  of  scorn,  such  as : 
'  Know  your  place,  fools !  What  ?  do  you  dispute  with  us  ? 
The  king  shall  know  of  your  insolence,  and  we  will  have 
your  hands  and  feet  chopped  off  and  other  correctives 
applied ! '  Hereupon  the  terrified  nobles  shall  affirm  that 
their  own  belongings  really  belong  to  the  overbearing 
upstarts,  and  will  tell  the  favourites  to  accept  them.  And 
they  shall  hie  them  home  and  there  cower  in  an  agony  of 
fear.  Likewise,  evil  Brethren  shall  harry  at  pleasure  good 
and  worthy  Brethren,  till  these  latter,  finding  none  to  help 
them,  shall  flee  to  the  jungle.  And  this  oppression  of  the 
nobles  and  of  the  good  Brethren  by  the  low-born  and  by 
the  evil  Brethren,  shall  be  like  the  scaring  of  wolves  by 
goats.  Howbeit,  you  have  nothing  to  fear  therefrom.  For 
this  dream  too  has  reference  to  future  times  only.  It  was 
not  truth,  it  was  not  love  for  you,  that  prompted  the 
brahmins  to  prophesy  as  they  did.  No,  it  was  greed  of 
gain,  and  the  insight  that  is  bred  of  covetousness,  that 
shaped  all  their  self-seeking  utterances." 

Thus  did  the  Master  expound  the  import  of  these 
sixteen  great  dreams,  adding, — "You,  sire,  are  not  the 
first  to  have  these  dreams ;  they  were  dreamed  by  kings 
of  bygone  days  also ;  and,  then  as  now,  the  brahmins  found 
in  them  a  pretext  for  sacrifices ;  whereupon,  at  the  instance 
of  the  wise  and  good,  the  Bodhisatta  was  consulted, 


and  the  dreams  were  expounded  by  them  of  old  time  in 
just  the  same  manner  as  they  have  now  been  expounded." 

In  K.  D.  (Syr.)  ix.,  (Arab.)  xiv.,  occurs  the  story  of  Bilad  [Bharata],  which  has  a 
strong  anti-brahmanical  tendency.  This  was  Benfey's  chief  evidence  for  a  buddhistic 
origin  of  the  Panchatantra  tales,  but  there  is  no  proof  that  it  is  connected  with  them 
(Benf.  Einl.  §  225).  The  execution  of  12,000  brahmins  Benfey  thought  was  not 
original,  but  it  occurs  in  the  Tibetan  Buddhist  form  (Schiefner,  Mahdkdtjajana 
und  Konig  Tshandapradjota,  Mem.  Acad  St  Pet.  xxn.  7).  We  now  have  three 
buddhist  versions  in  Jat.  77  (the  present  tale),  314  and  418,  none  of  which  can  be  the 
direct  origin  of  the  story  of  K.  D.  The  tale  is  essentially  the  same  in  all.  A  king 
through  certain  omens  is  persuaded  to  perform  sacrifices.  Being  advised  by  his  wife 
(or  a  minister)  he  consults  a  sage,  who  interprets  the  omens  and  dissuades  him  from 
the  sacrifices.  In  K.  D.  there  are  eight  dreams,  quite  different  from  those  in  the 
jataka.  In  Jat.  314  ( =  Buddhaghosa  xv.)  the  omens  are  sounds  uttered  by  inhabit- 
ants of  hell,  and  in  Jat.  418  eight  sounds  made  by  animals  and  other  creatures  in  the 
palace.  The  story  of  the  past  in  Jat.  77  is  merely  built  upon  the  introductory  story. 
The  king  in  all  three  stories  of  the  present  is  the  king  of  Kosala,  and  in  one  place 
is  expressly  called  Pasenadi  (Prasenajit),  who  was  a  contemporary  of  Buddha.  Cf. 
Benf.  Einl.  §  225.  Other  Indian  and  Slavonic  versions  are  given  by  H.  Wenzel, 
JRAS.,  1893,  509  ff.  Dr  Gaster  gives  a  Rumanian  version  (JRAS.,  1900,  623)  which 
has  probably  come  through  the  Slavonic  from  the  Buddhist  Mongols. 


Once  on  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  there  was  a  gildmaster,  Illlsa  by  name,  who  was 
worth  eighty  crores,  and  had  all  the  defects  which  fall  to 
the  lot  of  man.  He  was  lame  and  crook-backed  and  had 
a  squint;  he  was  an  unconverted  infidel,  and  a  miser, 
never  giving  of  his  store  to  others,  nor  enjoying  it  himself; 
his  house  was  like  a  pool  haunted  by  ogres.  Yet,  for 
seven  generations,  his  ancestors  had  been  bountiful,  giving 
freely  of  their  best ;  but,  when  he  became  gildmaster,  he 
broke  through  the  traditions  of  his  house.  Burning  down 
the  almonry  and  driving  the  poor  with  blows  from  his 
gates,  he  hoarded  his  wealth. 

One  day,  when  returning  home  from  attendance  on 
the  king,  he  saw  a  yokel,  who  had  journeyed  far  and  was 


a- weary,  seated  on  a  bench,  and  filling  a  mug  from  a  jar  of 
rank  spirits,  and  drinking  it  off,  with  a  dainty  morsel  of 
stinking  dried-fish  as  a  relish.  At  the  sight  he  felt  a  thirst 
for  spirits,  but  he  thought  to  himself,  "  If  I  drink,  others 
will  want  to  drink  with  me,  and  that  means  a  ruinous 
expense."  So  he  walked  about,  keeping  his  thirst  under. 
But,  as  time  wore  on,  he  could  do  so  no  longer ;  he  grew  as 
yellow  as  old  cotton ;  and  the  veins  stood  out  on  his  sunken 
frame.  On  a  day,  retiring  to  his  chamber,  he  lay  down 
hugging  his  bed.  His  wife  came  to  him,  and  rubbed  his 
back,  as  she  asked,  "  What  has  gone  amiss  with  my  lord  ? ' 

(What  follows  is  to  be  told  in  the  words  of  the  former 
story1.)  But,  when  she  in  her  turn  said,  "Then  I'll  only 
brew  liquor  enough  for  you/'  he  said,  "  If  you  make  the 
brew  in  the  house,  there  will  be  many  on  the  watch ;  and 
to  send  out  for  the  spirits  and  sit  and  drink  it  here,  is  out 
of  the  question."  So  he  produced  one  single  penny,  and 
sent  a  slave  to  fetch  him  a  jar  of  spirits  from  the  tavern. 
When  the  slave  came  back,  he  made  him  go  from  the  town 
to  the  riverside  and  put  the  jar  down  in  a  thicket  near  the 
highway.  "  Now  be  off ! "  said  he,  and  made  the  slave  wait 
some  distance  off,  while  he  filled  his  cup  and  fell  to. 

Now  the  gildmaster's  father,  who  for  his  charity  and 
other  good  works  had  been  re-born  as  Sakka  in  the  Realm 
of  gods,  was  at  that  moment  wrondering  whether  his  bounty 
was  still  kept  up  or  not,  and  became  aware  of  the  stopping 
of  his  bounty,  and  of  his  son's  behaviour.  He  saw  how  his 
son,  breaking  through  the  traditions  of  his  house,  had 
burnt  the  almonry  to  the  ground,  had  driven  the  poor 
with  blows  from  his  gates,  and  how,  in  his  miserliness, 
fearing  to  share  with  others,  that  son  had  stolen  away  to 

1  In  the  introductory  story  the  wife  proposes  to  cook  cakes  enough  for  the  town. 
He  gradually  reduces  the  amount,  until  she  promises  to  cook  one  for  him  alone. 


a  thicket  to  drink  by  himself.  Moved  by  the  sight,  Sakka 
cried,  "  I  will  go  to  him  and  make  my  son  see  that  deeds 
must  have  their  consequences ;  I  will  work  his  conversion, 
and  make  him  charitable  and  worthy  of  re-birth  in  the 
Realm  of  gods."  So  he  came  down  to  earth,  and  once 
more  trod  the  ways  of  men,  putting  on  the  semblance  of 
the  gildmaster  Illisa,  with  the  latter's  lameness,  and  crook- 
back,  and  squint.  In  this  guise,  he  entered  the  city  of 
Rajagaha  and  made  his  way  to  the  palace-gate,  where  he 
bade  his  coming  be  announced  to  the  king.  "Let  him 
approach,"  said  the  king ;  and  he  entered  and  stood  with 
due  obeisance  before  his  majesty. 

"What  brings  you  here  at  this  unusual  hour,  Lord 
gildmaster?"  said  the  king.  "I  am  come,  sire,  because 
I  have  in  my  house  eighty  crores  of  treasure.  Deign  to 
have  them  carried  to  fill  the  royal  treasury."  "Nay,  my 
Lord  gildmaster ;  the  treasure  within  my  palace  is  greater 
than  this."  "  If  you,  sire,  will  not  have  it,  I  shall  give  it 
away  to  whom  I  will."  "  Do  so  by  all  means,  gildmaster," 
said  the  king.  "  So  be  it,  sire,"  said  the  pretended  Illisa, 
as  with  due  obeisance  he  departed  from  the  presence  to 
the  gildmaster's  house.  The  servants  all  gathered  round 
him,  but  not  one  could  tell  that  it  was  not  their  real 
master.  Entering,  he  stood  on  the  threshold  and  sent  for 
the  porter,  to  whom  he  gave  orders  that  if  anybody  re- 
sembling himself  should  appear  and  claim  to  be  master  of 
the  house  they  should  soundly  cudgel  such  a  one  and 
throw  him  out.  Then,  mounting  the  stairs  to  the  upper 
story,  he  sat  down  on  a  gorgeous  couch  and  sent  for  Illlsa's 
wife.  When  she  came  he  said  with  a  smile,  "My  dear,  let 
us  be  bountiful." 

At  these  words,  wife,  children,  and  servants  all  thought, 
"  It's  a  long  time  since  he  was  this  way  minded.  It  must 


be  through  drinking  to-day  that  he  is  so  good-natured  and 
generous."  And  his  wife  said  to  him,  "Be  as  bountiful  as 
you  please,  my  husband."  "  Send  for  the  crier,"  said  he, 
"  and  bid  him  proclaim  by  beat  of  drum  all  through  the 
city  that  everyone  who  wants  gold,  silver,  diamonds,  pearls, 
and  the  like,  is  to  come  to  the  house  of  Illlsa  the  gild- 
master."  His  wife  did  as  he  bade,  and  a  large  crowd  soon 
assembled  at  the  door  carrying  baskets  and  sacks.  Then 
Sakka  bade  the  treasure-chambers  be  thrown  open,  and 
cried,  "  This  is  my  gift  to  you ;  take  what  you  will  and  go 
your  ways."  And  the  crowd  seized  on  the  riches  there 
stored,  and  piled  them  in  heaps  on  the  floor  and  filled  the 
bags  and  vessels  they  had  brought,  and  went  off  laden 
with  the  spoils.  Among  them  was  a  countryman  who 
yoked  Illlsa's  oxen  to  Illisa's  carriage,  filled  it  with  the 
seven  things  of  price,  and  journeyed  out  of  the  city  along 
the  highroad.  As  he  wrent  along,  he  drew  near  the  thicket, 
and  sang  the  gildmaster's  praises  in  these  words:  "May 
you  live  to  be  a  hundred,  my  good  lord  Illisa !  What  you 
have  done  for  me  this  day  will  enable  me  to  live  without 
doing  another  stroke  of  work.  Whose  were  these  oxen  ? — 
yours.  Whose  was  this  carriage  ? — yours.  Whose  the 
wealth  in  the  carriage? — yours  again.  It  was  no  father 
or  mother  who  gave  me  all  this ;  no,  it  came  solely  from 
you,  my  lord." 

These  words  filled  the  gildmaster  with  fear  and 
trembling.  "Why,  the  fellow  is  mentioning  my  name  in 
his  talk,"  said  he  to  himself.  "Can  the  king  have  been 
distributing  my  wealth  to  the  people  ? "  At  the  bare 
thought  he  bounded  from  the  bush,  and,  recognising  his 
own  oxen  and  cart,  seized  the  oxen  by  the  cord,  crying, 
"Stop,  fellow;  these  oxen  and  this  cart  belong  to  me." 
Down  leaped  the  man  from  the  cart,  angrily  exclaiming, 


"  You  rascal !  Illisa,  the  gildmaster,  is  giving  away  his 
wealth  to  all  the  city.  What  has  come  to  you  ? "  And  he 
sprang  at  the  gildmaster  and  struck  him  on  the  back  like 
a  falling  thunderbolt,  and  went  off  with  the  cart.  Illisa 
picked  himself  up,  trembling  in  every  limb,  wiped  off  the 
mud,  and  hurrying  after  his  cart,  seized  hold  of  it.  Again 
the  countryman  got  down,  and  seizing  Illisa  by  the  hair, 
doubled  him  up  and  thumped  him  about  the  head  for 
some  time ;  then  taking  him  by  the  throat,  he  flung  him 
back  the  way  he  had  come,  and  drove  off.  Sobered  by 
this  rough  usage,  Illisa  hurried  off  home.  There,  seeing 
folk  making  off  with  the  treasure,  he  fell  to  laying  hands 
on  here  a  man  and  there  a  man,  shrieking,  "  Hi !  what's 
this?  Is  the  king  despoiling  me?"  And  every  man  he 
laid  hands  on  knocked  him  down.  Bruised  and  smarting, 
he  sought  to  take  refuge  in  his  own  house,  when  the 
porters  stopped  him  with,  "  Holloa,  you  rascal !  Where 
might  you  be  going?"  And  first  thrashing  him  soundly 
with  bamboos,  they  took  their  master  by  the  throat  and 
threw  him  out  of  doors.  "  There  is  none  but  the  king  left 
to  see  me  righted,"  groaned  Illisa,  and  betook  himself  to 
the  palace.  "Why,  oh  why,  sire,"  he  cried,  "have  you 
plundered  me  like  this?" 

"  Nay,  it  was  not  I,  my  Lord  gildmaster,"  said  the  king. 
"  Did  you  not  yourself  come  and  declare  your  intention  of 
giving  your  wealth  away,  if  I  would  not  accept  it?  And 
did  you  not  then  send  the  crier  round  and  carry  out  your 
threat  ? "  "  Oh  sire,  indeed  it  was  not  I  that  came  to  you 
on  such  an  errand.  Your  majesty  knows  how  near  and 
close  I  am,  and  how  I  never  give  away  so  much  as  the 
tiniest  drop  of  oil  which  a  blade  of  grass  will  take  up. 
May  it  please  your  majesty  to  send  for  him  who  has  given 
my  substance  away,  and  to  question  him  on  the  matter." 


Then  the  king  sent  for  Sakka.  And  so  exactly  alike 
were  the  two  that  neither  the  king  nor  his  court  could  tell 
which  was  the  real  gildmaster.  Said  the  miser  Illisa, 
"  Who,  and  what,  sire,  is  this  gildmaster  ?  /  am  the  gild- 

"  Well,  really  I  can't  say  which  is  the  real  Illisa,"  said 
the  king.  "Is  there  anybody  who  can  distinguish  them 
for  certain  ? "  "  Yes,  sire,  my  wife."  So  the  wife  was  sent 
for  and  asked  which  of  the  two  was  her  husband.  And 
she  said  Sakka  was  her  husband  and  went  to  his  side. 
Then  in  turn  Illlsa's  children  and  servants  were  brought 
in  and  asked  the  same  question ;  and  all  with  one  accord 
declared  Sakka  was  the  real  gildmaster.  Here  it  flashed 
across  Illlsa's  mind  that  he  had  a  wart  on  his  head,  hidden 
among  his  hair,  the  existence  of  which  was  known  only  to 
his  barber.  So,  as  a  last  resource,  he  asked  that  his  barber 
might  be  sent  for  to  identify  him.  Now  at  this  time  the 
Bodhisatta  was  his  barber.  Accordingly,  the  barber  was 
sent  for  and  asked  if  he  could  distinguish  the  real  from 
the  false  Illisa.  "  I  could  tell,  sire,"  said  he,  "  if  I  might 
examine  their  heads."  "  Then  look  at  both  their  heads," 
said  the  king.  On  the  instant  Sakka  caused  a  wart  to  rise 
on  his  head !  After  examining  the  two,  the  Bodhisatta 
reported  that,  as  both  alike  had  got  warts  on  their  heads, 
he  couldn't  for  the  life  of  him  say  which  was  the  real  man. 
And  therewithal  he  uttered  this  stanza : 

Both  squint;  both  halt;  both  men  are  hunchbacks  too; 
And  both  have  warts  alike!   I  cannot  tell 
Which  of  the  two  the  real  Illisa  is. 

Hearing  his  last  hope  thus  fail  him,  the  gildmaster  fell 
into  a  tremble ;  and  such  was  his  intolerable  anguish  at 
the  loss  of  his  beloved  riches,  that  down  he  fell  in  a  swoon. 
Thereupon  Sakka  put  forth  his  transcendental  powers, 

F.  4  T.  7 


and,  rising  in  the  air,  addressed  the  king  thence  in  these 
words :  "  Not  Illisa  am  I,  O  king,  but  Sakka."  Then  those 
around  wiped  Illlsa's  face  and  dashed  water  over  him. 
Recovering,  he  rose  to  his  feet  and  bowed  to  the  ground 
before  Sakka,  King  of  gods.  Then  said  Sakka,  "Illisa, 
mine  was  the  wealth,  not  thine ;  I  am  thy  father,  and  thou 
art  my  son.  In  my  lifetime  I  was  bountiful  toward  the 
poor  and  rejoiced  in  doing  good ;  wherefore,  I  am  ad- 
vanced to  this  high  estate  and  am  become  Sakka.  But 
thou,  walking  not  in  my  footsteps,  art  grown  a  niggard 
and  a  very  miser;  thou  hast  burnt  my  almonry  to  the 
ground,  driven  the  poor  from  the  gate,  and  hoarded 
thy  riches.  Thou  hast  no  enjoyment  thereof  thyself,  nor 
has  any  other  human  being ;  but  thy  store  is  become  like 
a  pool  haunted  by  ogres,  whereat  no  man  may  slake  his 
thirst.  Albeit,  if  thou  wilt  rebuild  mine  almonry  and 
shew  bounty  to  the  poor,  it  shall  be  accounted  to  thee  for 
righteousness.  But,  if  thou  wilt  not,  then  will  I  strip  thee 
of  all  that  thou  hast,  and  cleave  thy  head  with  this  thunder- 
bolt of  Indra,  and  thou  shalt  die." 

At  this  threat  Illisa,  quaking  for  his  life,  cried  out, 
"Henceforth  I  will  be  bountiful."  And  Sakka  accepted 
his  promise,  and,  still  seated  in  mid-air,  established  his  son 
in  the  Commandments  and  preached  the  Truth  to  him, 
departing  thereafter  to  his  own  abode.  And  Illisa  was 
diligent  in  almsgiving  and  other  good  works,  and  so 
assured  his  re-birth  thereafter  in  heaven. 

Respecting  this  story,  see  an  article  by  the  translator  [Sir  R.  Chalmers]  in  the 
Journal  of  the  Royal  Asiatic  Society  for  January  1892,  entitled  "  The  Lineage  of  the 
'Proud  King.'"  Of.  Gesta  Rom.  59,  De  superbia  nimia,  retold  by  Longfellow,  Tales 
of  a  Wayside  Inn,  King  Robert  of  Sicily. 


Once  on  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  a  brahmin  in  a  market- 
town  in  the  North  country,  and  when  he  was  grown  up  he 
studied  under  a  teacher  of  world-wide  fame  at  Takkasila. 
There  he  learnt  the  Three  Vedas  and  the  Eighteen 
Branches  of  knowledge,  and  completed  his  education. 
And  he  became  known  as  the  Sage  Little  Bowman. 
Leaving  Takkasila,  he  came  to  the  Andhra  country  in 


search  of  practical  experience.  Now,  it  happened  that  in 
this  Birth  the  Bodhisatta  was  somewhat  of  a  crooked  little 
dwarf,  and  he  thought  to  himself,  "  If  I  make  my  appear- 
ance before  any  king,  he's  sure  to  ask  what  a  dwarf  like 
me  is  good  for ;  why  should  I  not  use  a  tall  broad  fellow 
as  my  stalking-horse  and  earn  my  living  in  the  shadow  of 
his  more  imposing  personality  ? "  So  he  betook  himself  to 
the  weavers'  quarter,  and  there  espying  a  huge  weaver 
named  Bhlmasena,  saluted  him,  asking  the  man's  name. 
"Bhlmasena1  is  my  name,"  said  the  weaver.  "And  what 
makes  a  fine  big  man  like  you  work  at  so  sorry  a  trade  ? " 
" Because  I  can't  get  a  living  any  other  way."  "Weave  no 
more,  friend.  The  whole  continent  can  shew  no  such 
archer  as  I  am ;  but  kings  would  scorn  me  because  I  am 
a  dwarf.  And  so  you,  friend,  must  be  the  man  to  vaunt 
your  prowress  with  the  bow,  and  the  king  will  take  you  into 
his  pay  and  make  you  ply  your  calling  regularly.  Mean- 
time I  shall  be  behind  you  to  perform  the  duties  that  are 
laid  upon  you,  and  so  shall  earn  my  living  in  your  shadow. 
In  this  manner  we  shall  both  of  us  thrive  and  prosper. 
Only  do  as  I  tell  you."  "  Done  with  you,"  said  the  other. 

1  The  name  means  "one  who  has  or  leads  a  terrible  army";  it  is  the  name  of  the 
second  of  the  five  sons  of  Pandu  in  the  Mahabharata. 


^  0 


Accordingly,  the  Bodhisatta  took  the  weaver  with  him 
to  Benares,  acting  as  a  little  page  of  the  bow,  and  putting 
the  other  in  the  front;  and  when  they  were  at  the  gates  of 
the  palace,  he  made  him  send  word  of  his  coming  to  the 
king.  Being  summoned  into  the  royal  presence,  the  pair 
entered  together  and  bowing  stood  before  the  king. 
"What  brings  you  here? "  said  the  king.  "  I  am  a  mighty 

O       •/  »/ 

archer,"  said  Bhimasena;  "there  is  no  archer  like  me  in 
the  whole  continent/'  "  What  pay  would  you  want  to 
enter  my  service ? "  "A  thousand  pieces  a  fortnight,  sire." 
"  What  is  this  man  of  yours  ? "  "  He's  my  little  page,  sire." 
"  Very  well,  enter  my  service." 

So  Bhimasena  entered  the  king's  service;  but  it  was 
the  Bodhisatta  who  did  all  his  work  for  him.  Now  in 
those  days  there  was  a  tiger  in  a  forest  in  Kasi  which 
blocked  a  frequented  high-road  and  had  devoured  many 
victims.  When  this  was  reported  to  the  king,  he  sent  for 
Bhimasena  and  asked  whether  he  could  catch  the  tiger. 

"  How  could  I  call  myself  an  archer,  sire,  if  I  couldn't 
catch  a  tiger?"  The  king  gave  him  largesse  and  sent 
him  on  the  errand.  And  home  to  the  Bodhisatta  came 
Bhimasena  with  the  news.  "All  right,"  said  the  Bodhisatta ; 
"  away  you  go,  my  friend."  "  But  are  you  not  coining  too  ? " 
"No,  I  won't  go;  but  I'll  tell  you  a  little  plan."  "Please 
de,  my  friend."  "Well,  don't  you  be  rash  and  approach 
the  tiger's  lair  alone.  What  you  will  do  is  to  muster 
a  strong  band  of  country-folk  to  march  to  the  spot  with 
a  thousand  or  two  thousand  bows;  when  you  know  that 


the  tiger  is  aroused,  you  bolt  into  the  thicket  and  lie  down 
flat  on  your  face.  The  country-folk  will  beat  the  tiger 
to  death ;  and  as  soon  as  he  is  quite  dead,  you  bite  off 
a  creeper  with  your  teeth,  and  draw  near  to  the  dead 
tiger,  trailing  the  creeper  in  your  hand.  At  the  sight 


of  the  dead  body  of  the  brute,  you  will  burst  out  with- 
'Who  has  killed  the  tiger?  I  meant  to  lead  it  by  a 
creeper,  like  an  ox,  to  the  king,  and  with  this  intent  had 
just  stepped  into  the  thicket  to  get  a  creeper.  I  must 
know  who  killed  the  tiger  before  I  could  get  back  with 
my  creeper.'  Then  the  country-folk  will  be  very  frightened 
and  bribe  you  heavily  not  to  report  them  to  the  king ;  you 
will  be  credited  with  slaying  the  tiger ;  and  the  king  too 
will  give  you  lots  of  money." 

"Very  good,"  said  Bhimasena;  and  off  he  went  and 
slew  the  tiger  just  as  the  Bodhisatta  had  told  him. 
Having  thus  made  the  road  safe  for  travellers,  back  he 
came  with  a  large  following  to  Benares,  and  said  to  the 
king,  "I  have  killed  the  tiger,  sire;  the  forest  is  safe  for 
travellers  now."  Well-pleased,  the  king  loaded  him  with 

Another  day,  tidings  came  that  a  certain  road  was 
infested  with  a  buffalo,  and  the  king  sent  Bhimasena  to 
kill  it.  Following  the  Bodhisatta's  directions,  he  killed 
the  buffalo  in  the  same  way  as  the  tiger,  and  returned 
to  the  king,  who  once  more  gave  him  lots  of  money.  He 
was  a  great  lord  now.  Intoxicated  by  his  new  honours, 
he  treated  the  Bodhisatta  with  contempt,  and  scorned 
to  follow  his  advice,  saying,  "I  can  get  on  without  you. 
Do  you  think  there's  no  man  but  yourself? "  This  and 
many  other  harsh  things  did  he  say  to  the  Bodhisatta. 

Now,  a  few  days  later,  a  hostile  king  marched  upon 
Benares  and  beleaguered  it,  sending  a  message  to  the  king 
summoning  him  either  to  surrender  his  kingdom  or  to  do 
battle.  And  the  king  of  Benares  ordered  Bhimasena  out  to 
fight  him.  So  Bhimasena  was  armed  cap-a-pie  in  soldierly 
fashion  and  mounted  on  a  war-elephant  sheathed  in 
complete  armour.  And  the  Bodhisatta,  who  was  seriously 


alarmed  that  Bhimasena  might  get  killed,  armed  himself 
cap-a-pie  also  and  seated  himself  modestly  behind  Bhi- 
masena. Surrounded  by  a  host,  the  elephant  passed  out 
of  the  gates  of  the  city  and  arrived  in  the  forefront  of  the 
battle.  At  the  first  notes  of  the  martial  drum  Bhimasena 
fell  a-quaking  with  fear.  "  If  you  fall  off  now,  you'll  get 
killed,"  said  Bodhisatta,  and  accordingly  fastened  a  cord 
round  him,  which  he  held  tight,  to  prevent  him  from 
falling  off  the  elephant.  But  the  sight  of  the  field  of 
battle  proved  too  much  for  Bhimasena,  and  the  fear  of 
death  was  so  strong  on  him  that  he  fouled  the  elephant's 
back.  "Ah,"  said  the  Bodhisatta,  "the  present  does  not 
tally  with  the  past.  Then  you  affected  the  warrior;  now 
your  prowess  is  confined  to  befouling  the  elephant  you 
ride  on."  And  so  saying,  he  uttered  this  stanza: 

You  vaunted  your  prowess,  and  loud  was  your  boast; 

You  swore  you  would  vanquish  the  foe! 
But  is  it  consistent,  wyheu  faced  with  their  host, 

To  vent  your  emotion,  sir,  so? 

When  the  Bodhisatta  had  ended  these  taunts,  he  said, 
"  But  don't  you  be  afraid,  my  friend.  Am  not  I  here  to 
protect  you?"  Then  he  made  Bhimasena  get  off  the 
elephant  and  bade  him  wash  himself  and  go  home.  "  And 
now  to  win  renown  this  day,"  said  the  Bodhisatta,  raising 
his  battle-cry  as  he  dashed  into  the  fight.  Breaking 
through  the  king's  camp,  he  dragged  the  king  out  and 
took  him  alive  to  Benares.  In  great  joy  at  his  prowess, 
his  royal  master  loaded  him  with  honours,  and  from  that 
day  forward  all  India  was  loud  with  the  fame  of  the  Sage 
Little  Bowman.  To  Bhimasena  he  gave  largesse,  and  sent 
him  back  to  his  own  home ;  whilst  he  himself  excelled  in 
charity  and  all  good  works,  and  at  his  death  passed  away 
to  fare  according  to  his  deserts. 

Of.  Grimm  20,  The  valiant  Tailor,  Anm. 


Once  on  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta,  having  perfected  his  education, 
became  one  of  the  king's  ministers.  One  day  the  king 
with  a  large  following  went  into  his  pleasaunce,  and,  after 
walking  about  the  woods,  felt  a  desire  to  disport  himself 
in  the  water.  So  he  went  down  into  the  royal  tank  and 
sent  for  his  harem.  The  women  of  the  harem,  removing 
the  jewels  from  their  heads  and  necks  and  so  forth,  laid 
them  aside  with  their  upper  garments  in  boxes  under  the 
charge  of  female  slaves,  and  then  went  down  into  the 
water.  Now,  as  the  queen  was  taking  off  her  jewels  and 
ornaments,  and  laying  them  with  her  upper  robe  on  a. 
box,  she  was  watched  by  a  female  monkey,  which  was 
hidden  in  the  branches  of  a  tree  hard  by.  Conceiving  a 
longing  to  wear  the  queen's  pearl  necklace,  this  monkey 
watched  for  the  slave  in  charge  to  be  off'  her  guard.  At 
first  the  girl  kept  looking  all  about  her  in  order  to  keep 
the  jewels  safe ;  but  as  time  wore  on,  she  began  to  nod. 
As  soon  as  the  monkey  saw  this,  quick  as  the  wind  she 
jumped  down,  and  quick  as  the  wind  she  was  up  the  tree 
again,  with  the  pearls  round  her  own  neck.  Then,  for 
fear  the  other  monkeys  should  see  it,  she  hid  the  string 
of  pearls  in  a  hole  in  the  tree  and  sat  on  guard  over  her 
spoils  as  demurely  as  though  nothing  had  happened.  By 
and  by  the  slave  awoke,  and,  terrified  at  finding  the  jewels 
gone,  saw  nothing  else  to  do  but  to  scream  out,  "A  man 
has  run  off  with  the  queen's  pearl  necklace."  Up  ran  the 
guards  from  every  side,  and  hearing  this  story  told  it  to 
the  king.  "Catch  the  thief,"  said  his  majesty;  and  away 
went  the  guards  searching  high  and  low  for  the  thief  in 
the  pleasaunce.  Hearing  the  din,  a  poor  superstitious 


rustic 1  took  to  his  heels  in  alarm.  "  There  he  goes,"  cried 
the  guards,  catching  sight  of  the  runaway;  and  they 
followed  him  up  till  they  caught  him,  and  with  blows 
demanded  what  he  meant  by  stealing  such  precious 

Thought  he,  "If  I  deny  the  charge,  I  shall  die  with 
the  beating  I  shall  get  from  these  ruffians.  I'd  better  say 
I  took  it."  So  he  confessed  to  the  theft  and  was  hauled 
off  a  prisoner  to  the  king.  "  Did  you  take  those  precious 
jewels?"  asked  the  king.  "Yes,  your  majesty."  "Where 
are  they  now?"  "Please,  your  majesty,  I'm  a  poor  man; 
I've  never  in  my  life  owned  anything,  even  a  bed  or  a 
chair,  of  any  value, — much  less  a  jewel.  It  was  the  gild- 
master  who  made  me  take  that  valuable  necklace;  and 
I  took  it  and  gave  it  to  him.  He  knows  all  about  it." 

Then  the  king  sent  for  the  gildmaster,  and  asked 
whether  the  rustic  had  passed  the  necklace  on  to  him. 
"  Yes,  sire,"  was  the  answer.  "  Where  is  it  then ? "  "I  gave 
it  to  your  majesty's  family  priest."  Then  the  priest  was 
sent  for,  and  interrogated  in  the  same  way.  And  he  said 
he  had  given  it  to  the  chief  musician,  who  in  his  turn 
said  he  had  given  it  to  a  courtesan  as  a  present.  But  she, 
being  brought  before  the  king,  utterly  denied  ever  having 
received  it. 

Whilst  the  five  were  thus  being  questioned,  the  sun 
set.  "  It's  too  late  now,"  said  the  king ;  "  we  will  look  into 
this  to-morrow."  So  he  handed  the  five  over  to  his 
ministers  and  went  back  into  the  city.  Hereupon  the 
Bodhisatta  fell  a-thinking.  "These  jewels,"  thought  he, 
"were  lost  inside  the  grounds,  whilst  the  rustic  was 
outside.  There  was  a  strong  guard  at  the  gates,  and  it 
was  impossible  for  anyone  inside  to  get  away  with  the 

1  Or  perhaps  "  a  taxpaying  ryot." 


necklace.  I  do  not  see  how  anyone,  whether  inside  or 
out,  could  have  managed  to  secure  it.  The  truth  is  this 
poor  wretched  fellow  must  have  said  he  gave  it  to  the 
gildmaster  merely  in  order  to  save  his  own  skin ;  and  the 
gildmaster  must  have  said  he  gave  it  to  the  priest,  in 
the  hope  that  he  would  get  off  if  he  could  mix  the  priest 
up  in  the  matter.  Further,  the  priest  must  have  said  he 
gave  it  to  the  chief  musician,  because  he  thought  the 
latter  would  make  the  time  pass  merrily  in  prison ;  whilst 
the  chief  musician's  object  in  implicating  the  courtesan, 
wras  simply  to  solace  himself  writh  her  company  during 
imprisonment.  Not  one  of  the  whole  five  has  anything 
to  do  with  the  theft.  On  the  other  hand,  the  grounds 
swarm  with  monkeys,  and  the  necklace  must  have  got 
into  the  hands  of  one  of  the  female  monkeys." 

When  he  had  arrived  at  this  conclusion,  the  Bodhisatta 
went  to  the  king  with  the  request  that  the  suspects  might 
be  handed  over  to  him  and  that  he  might  be  allowed  to 
examine  personally  into  the  matter.  "By  all  means,  my 
wise  friend,"  said  the  king ;  "  examine  into  it." 

Then  the  Bodhisatta  sent  for  his  servants  and  told 
them  where  to  lodge  the  five  prisoners,  saying,  "Keep 
strict  watch  over  them ;  listen  to  everything  they  say,  and 
report  it  all  to  me."  And  his  servants  did  as  he  bade 
them.  As  the  prisoners  sat  together,  the  gildmaster  said 
to  the  rustic,  "  Tell  me,  you  wretch,  where  you  and  I  ever 
met  before  this  day:  tell  me  when  you  gave  me  that 
necklace."  "Worshipful  sir,"  said  the  other,  "it  has  never 
been  mine  to  own  aught  so  valuable  even  as  a  stool  or 
bedstead  that  wasn't  rickety.  I  thought  that  with  your 
help  I  should  get  out  of  this  trouble,  and  that's  why  I  said 
what  I  did.  Be  not  angry  with  me,  my  lord."  Said  the 
priest  in  his  turn  to  the  gildmaster,  "  How  then  came  you 


to  pass  on  to  me  what  this  fellow  had  never  given  to 
you ? "  "I  only  said  so  because  I  thought  that  if  you  and 
I,  both  high  officers  of  state,  stand  together,  we  can  soon 
put  the  matter  right."  "Brahmin,"  now  said  the  chief 
musician  to  the  priest,  "when,  pray,  did  you  give  the 
jewel  to  me?"  "I  only  said  I  did/'  answered  the  priest, 
"because  I  thought  you  would  help  to  make  the  time 
pass  more  agreeably."  Lastly  the  courtesan  said,  "Oh, 
you  wretch  of  a  musician,  you  know  you  never  visited 
me,  nor  I  you.  So  when  could  you  have  given  me  the 
necklace,  as  you  say  ? "  "  Why  be  angry,  my  dear  ? "  said 
the  musician ;  "  we  five  have  got  to  keep  house  together 
for  a  bit ;  so  let  us  put  a  cheerful  face  on  it  and  be  happy 

This  conversation  being  reported  to  the  Bodhisatta  by 
his  agents,  he  felt  convinced  the  five  were  all  innocent  of 
the  robbery,  and  that  a  female  monkey  had  taken  the 
necklace.  "  And  I  must  find  a  means  to  make  her  drop 
it,"  said  he  to  himself.  So  he  had  a  number  of  bead 
necklaces  made.  Next  he  had  a  number  of  monkeys 
caught  and  turned  loose  again,  with  strings  of  beads  on 
their  necks,  wrists  and  ancles.  Meantime,  the  guilty 
monkey  kept  sitting  in  the  trees  watching  her  treasure. 
Then  the  Bodhisatta  ordered  a  number  of  men  to  observe 
every  monkey  in  the  grounds  carefully,  till  they  saw  one 
wearing  the  missing  pearl  necklace,  and  then  frighten  her 
into  dropping  it. 

Tricked  out  in  their  new  splendour,  the  other  monkeys 
strutted  about  till  they  came  to  the  real  thief,  to  whom 
they  said,  "See  our  necklaces."  Jealousy  overcoming 
her  prudence,  she  exclaimed,  "  They're  only  beads ! "  and 
put  on  her  own  necklace  of  real  pearls.  This  was  at  once 
seen  by  the  watchers,  who  promptly  made  her  drop  the 


necklace,  which  they  picked  up  and  brought  to  the 
Bodhisatta.  He  took  it  to  the  king,  saying,  "  Here,  sire, 
is  the  necklace.  The  five  prisoners  are  innocent;  it  was 
a  female  monkey  in  the  pleasaunce  that  took  it."  "  How 
came  you  to  find  that  out?"  asked  the  king;  "and  how 
did  you  manage  to  get  possession  of  it  again?"  Then 
the  Bodhisatta  told  the  whole  story,  and  the  king  thanked 
the  Bodhisatta,  saying,  "You  are  the  right  man  in  the 
right  place."  And  he  uttered  this  stanza  in  praise  of  the 
Bodhisatta : 

For  war  men  crave  the  hero's  might, 
For  counsel  sage  sobriety, 
Boon  comrades  for  their  jollity, 

But  judgment  when  in  parlous  plight. 

Over  and  above  these  words  of  praise  and  gratitude,  the 
king  showered  treasures  upon  the  Bodhisatta  like  a 
storm-cloud  pouring  rain  from  the  heavens.  After 
following  the  Bodhisatta's  counsels  through  a  long  life 
spent  in  charity  and  good  works,  the  king  passed  away 
to  fare  thereafter  according  to  his  deserts. 


Once  on  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  into  a  merchant's 
family  and  on  name-day  was  named  'Wise.'  When  he 
grew  up  he  entered  into  partnership  with  another  mer- 
chant named  'Wisest,'  and  traded  with  him.  And  these 
two  took  five  hundred  waggons  of  merchandise  from 
Benares  to  the  country-districts,  where  they  disposed  of 
their  wares,  returning  afterwards  with  the  proceeds  to 
the  city.  When  the  time  for  dividing  came,  Wisest  said, 
"  I  must  have  a  double  share."  "  Why  so  ? "  asked  Wise. 


"Because  while  you  are  only  Wise,  I  am  Wisest.  And 
Wise  ought  to  have  only  one  share  to  Wisest's  two." 
"  But  we  both  had  an  equal  interest  in  the  stock-in-trade 
and  in  the  oxen  and  waggons.  Why  should  you  have  two 
shares  ? "  "  Because  I  am  Wisest."  And  so  they  talked 
away  till  they  fell  to  quarrelling. 

"Ah!"  thought  Wisest,  "I  have  a  plan."  And  he 
made  his  father  hide  in  a  hollow  tree,  enjoining  the  old 
man  to  say,  when  the  two  came,  "Wisest  should  have  a 
double  portion."  This  arranged,  he  went  to  the  Bodhi- 
satta  and  proposed  to  him  to  refer  the  claim  for  a  double 
share  to  the  competent  decision  of  the  tree  divinity.  Then 
he  made  his  appeal  in  these  words:  "Lord,  decide  our 
cause  ! "  Hereupon  the  father,  who  wras  hidden  in  the  tree, 
in  a  changed  voice  asked  them  to  state  the  case.  The 
cheat  addressed  the  tree  as  follows:  "Lord,  here  stands 
Wise,  and  here  stand  I  Wisest.  We  have  been  partners 
in  trade.  Declare  what  share  each  should  receive." 

"  Wise  should  receive  one  share,  and  Wisest  two,"  was 
the  response. 

Hearing  this  decision,  the  Bodhisatta  resolved  to  find 
out  whether  it  was  indeed  a  tree  divinity  or  not.  So  he 
filled  the  hollow  trunk  with  straw  and  set  it  on  fire.  And 
Wisest's  father  wras  half  roasted  by  the  rising  flames  and 
clambered  up  by  clutching  hold  of  a  bough.  Falling  to 
the  ground,  he  uttered  this  stanza : 

Wise  rightly,  Wisest  wrongly  got  his  name; 
Through  Wisest,  I'm  nigh  roasted  in  the  flame. 

Then  the  two  merchants  made  an  equal  division  and 
each  took  half,  and  at  their  deaths  passed  awray  to  fare 
according  to  their  deserts. 

A  somewhat  mutilated  version  of  Dustabuddhi  and  Abuddhi  (Dharmabuddhi) 
P.  (T.)  L  15,  Som.  LX.  211  (ii.  40),  K.  D.  (Syr.)  I.  13,  (Arab.)  v. 


Once  on  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  one  of  the  king's  courtiers. 
And  the  king's  family  priest  of  those  days  was  so  talkative 
and  longwinded  that,  when  he  once  started,  no  one  else 
could  get  a  word  in.  So  the  king  cast  about  for  someone 
to  cut  the  priest  short,  and  looked  high  and  low  for  such 
an  one.  Now  at  that  time  there  was  a  cripple  in  Benares 
who  was  a  wonderful  marksman  with  stones,  and  the  boys 
used  to  put  him  on  a  little  cart  and  draw  him  to  the  gates 
of  Benares,  where  there  is  a  large  branching  banyan-tree 
covered  with  leaves.  There  they  would  gather  round  and 
give  him  half-pence,  saying  '  Make  an  elephant,'  or  '  Make 
a  horse.'  And  the  cripple  would  throw  stone  after  stone 
till  he  had  cut  the  foliage  into  the  shapes  asked  for.  And 
the  ground  was  covered  with  fallen  leaves. 

On  his  way  to  his  pleasaunce  the  king  came  to  the 
spot,  and  all  the  boys  scampered  off  in  fear  of  the  king, 
leaving  the  cripple  there  helpless.  At  the  sight  of  the 
litter  of  leaves  the  king  asked,  as  he  rode  by  in  his 
chariot,  who  had  cut  the  leaves  off.  And  he  was  told 
that  the  cripple  had  done  it.  Thinking  that  here  might 
be  a  way  to  stop  the  priest's  mouth,  the  king  asked  where 
the  cripple  was,  and  was  shewn  him  sitting  at  the  foot 
of  the  tree.  Then  the  king  had  him  brought  to  him  and, 
motioning  his  retinue  to  stand  apart,  said  to  the  cripple, 
"  I  have  a  very  talkative  priest.  Do  you  think  you  could 
stop  his  talking  ? " 

"Yes,  sire, — if  I  had  a  peashooter  full  of  dry  goat's 
dung,"  said  the  cripple.  Then  the  king  had  him  taken 
to  the  palace  and  set  with  a  peashooter  full  of  dry  goat's 
dung  behind  a  curtain  with  a  slit  in  it,  facing  the  priest's 


seat.  When  the  brahmin  came  to  wait  upon  the  king 
and  was  seated  on  the  seat  prepared  for  him,  his  majesty 
started  a  conversation.  And  the  priest  forthwith  mono- 
polized the  conversation,  and  no  one  else  could  get  a 
word  in.  Hereon  the  cripple  shot  the  pellets  of  goat's 
dung  one  by  one,  like  flies,  through  the  slit  in  the  curtain 
right  into  the  priest's  gullet.  And  the  brahmin  swallowed 
the  pellets  down  as  they  came,  like  so  much  oil,  till  all 
had  disappeared.  When  the  whole  peashooter-full  of 
pellets  was  lodged  in  the  priest's  stomach,  they  swelled 
to  the  size  of  half  a  peck ;  and  the  king,  knowing  they 
were  all  gone,  addressed  the  brahmin  in  these  words: 
"Reverend  sir,  so  talkative  are  you,  that  you  have 
swallowed  down  a  peashooter-full  of  goat's  dung  without 
noticing  it.  That's  about  as  much  as  you  will  be  able 
to  take  at  a  sitting.  Now  go  home  and  take  a  dose  of 
panick  seed  and  water  by  way  of  emetic,  and  put  yourself 
right  again." 

From  that  day  the  priest  kept  his  mouth  shut  and 
sat  as  silent  during  conversation  as  though  his  lips  were 

"Well,  my  ears  are  indebted  to  the  cripple  for  this 
relief,"  said  the  king,  and  bestowed  on  him  four  villages, 
one  in  the  North,  one  in  the  South,  one  in  the  West,  and 
one  in  the  East,  producing  a  hundred  thousand  a  year. 

The  Bodhisatta  drew  near  to  the  king  and  said,  "  In 
this  world,  sire,  skill  should  be  cultivated  by  the  wise. 
Mere  skill  in  aiming  has  brought  this  cripple  all  this 
prosperity."  So  saying  he  uttered  this  stanza: 

Prize  skill,  and  note  the  marksman  lame; 
— Four  villages  reward  his  aim. 


Once  on  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  there  lived  in  the  river  of  Benares  three  fishes, 
named  Very- thoughtful,  Thoughtless,  and  Duly-thoughtful. 
And  they  came  down  stream  from  the  wild  country  to 
where  men  dwelt.  Hereupon  Duly-thoughtful  said  to  the 
other  two,  "  This  is  a  dangerous  and  perilous  neighbour- 
hood, where  fishermen  catch  fish  with  nets,  basket-traps, 
and  such  like  tackle.  Let  us  be  off  to  the  wild  country 
again."  But  so  lazy  were  the  other  two  fishes,  and  so 
greedy,  that  they  kept  putting  off  their  going  from  day 
to  day,  until  they  had  let  three  months  slip  by.  Now 
fishermen  cast  their  nets  into  the  river;  and  Very- 
thoughtful  and  Thoughtless  were  swimming  on  ahead  in 
quest  of  food  when  in  their  folly  they  blindly  rushed  into 
the  net.  Duly-thoughtful,  who  was  behind,  observed  the 
net,  and  saw  the  fate  of  the  other  two. 

"  I  must  save  these  lazy  fools  from  death,"  thought  he. 
So  first  he  dodged  round  the  net,  and  splashed  in  the 
water  in  front  of  it  like  a  fish  that  has  broken  through 
and  gone  up  stream ;  and  then  doubling  back,  he  splashed 
about  behind  it,  like  a  fish  that  has  broken  through  and 
gone  down  stream.  Seeing  this,  the  fishermen  thought 
the  fish  had  broken  the  net  and  all  got  away ;  so  they 
pulled  it  in  by  one  corner  and  the  two  fishes  escaped 
from  the  net  into  the  open  water  again.  In  this  way 
they  owed  their  lives  to  Duly-thoughtful. 

P.  (T.)  i.  12.     Benfey's  I.  14  is  a  variant  version.     He  gives  the  version  of  T.  as  I., 
Suppl.  iv  b,  and  a  further  version  in  v.  6  (two  fishes  and  a  frog).    Mbh.  xn.  ch.  137. 


Once  on  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  he  had  in  his  service  a  brahmin  who  professed 
to  tell  whether  swords  were  lucky  or  not,  and  all  came  to 
pass  as  in  the  Introductory  Story1.  And  the  king  called 
in  the  surgeons  and  had  him  fitted  with  a  false  tip  to  his 
nose  which  was  cunningly  painted  for  all  the  world  like 
a  real  nose;  and  then  the  brahmin  resumed  his  duties 
again  about  the  king.  Now  Brahmadatta  had  no  son, 
only  a  daughter  and  a  nephew,  whom  he  had  brought  up 
under  his  own  eye.  And  when  these  two  grew  up,  they 
fell  in  love  with  one  another.  So  the  king  sent  for  his 
councillors  and  said  to  them,  "My  nephew  is  heir  to  the 
throne.  If  I  give  him  my  daughter  to  wife,  he  shall  be 
anointed  king." 

But,  on  second  thoughts,  he  decided  that  as  in  any 
case  his  nephew  was  like  a  son,  he  had  better  marry  him 
to  a  foreign  princess,  and  give  his  daughter  to  a  prince 
of  another  royal  house.  For,  he  thought,  this  plan  would 
give  him  more  grandchildren  and  vest  in  his  line  the 
sceptres  of  two  several  kingdoms.  And,  after  consulting 
with  his  councillors,  he  resolved  to  separate  the  two,  and 
they  were  accordingly  made  to  dwell  apart  from  one 
another.  Now  they  were  sixteen  years  old  and  very  much 
in  love,  and  the  young  prince  thought  of  nothing  but  how 
to  carry  oif  his  cousin  from  her  father's  palace.  At  last 
the  plan  struck  him  of  sending  for  a  wise  woman,  to  whom 
he  gave  a  pocketful  of  money. 

1  The  brahmin  in  Buddha's  time  was  a  sword-tester,  who  took  bribes.  A  disap- 
pointed smith  brought  a  sword  and  put  it  into  the  sheath  with  some  pepper.  When 
the  brahmin  sniffed  at  the  sword  and  pretended  to  test  it,  he  sneezed  and  split 
his  nose. 


"  And  what  am  I  to  do  for  this  ? "  said  she. 

"  There  is  nothing  you  can't  do,  tell  me  how  you  can  get 
my  uncle  to  let  his  daughter  out  of  the  palace." 

And  she  promised  to  help  him,  and   said  that   she 
would  tell  the  king  that  his   daughter   was   under  the 
influence   of   witchcraft,   but   that,   as    the    demon    had 
possessed   her  so   long  that   he   was  off  his  guard,  she 
would  take  the  princess  one  day  in   a  carriage  to   the 
cemetery  with  a  strong  escort  under  arms,  and  there  in 
a  magic  circle  lay  the  princess  on  a  bed  with  a  dead  man 
under  it,   and   with   a   hundred   and   eight   douches    of 
scented  water  wash  the  demon  out  of  her.     "And  when 
on  this   pretext  I  bring   the   princess  to  the  cemetery," 
continued  the  wise  woman,  "  mind  that  you  just  reach  the 
cemetery  before  us  in  your  carriage  with  an  armed  escort, 
taking  some  ground  pepper  with  you.     Arrived  at  the 
cemetery,  you  will  leave  your   carriage  at  the  entrance, 
and  despatch  your  men  to  the  cemetery  grove,  while  you 
will  yourself  go  to  the  top  of  the  mound  and  lie  down 
as  though  dead.     Then  I  will  come  and  set  up  a  bed  over 
you  on  which  I  will  lay  the  princess.     Then  will  come  the 
time  when  you  must  sniff  at  the  pepper  till  you  sneeze 
two  or  three  times,  and  when  you  sneeze  we  will  leave  the 
princess  and  take  to  our  heels.     Thereon  you  and  the 
princess  must  bathe  all   over,  and  you  must   take   her 
home  with   you."     "Capital,"  said  the  prince;   "a  most 
excellent  device." 

So  away  went  the  wise  woman  to  the  king,  and  he  fell 
in  with  her  idea,  as  did  the  princess  when  it  was  explained 
to  her.  When  the  day  came,  the  old  woman  told  the 
princess  their  errand,  and  said  to  the  guards  on  the  road 
in  order  to  frighten  them,  "  Listen.  Under  the  bed  that 
I  shall  set  up,  there  will  be  a  dead  man ;  and  that  dead 

P.  &  T.  8 


man  will  sneeze.  And  mark  well  that,  so  soon  as  he  has 
sneezed,  he  will  come  out  from  under  the  bed  and  seize 
on  the  first  person  he  finds.  So  be  prepared,  all  of  you." 

Now  the  prince  had  already  got  to  the  place  and  got 
under  the  bed  as  had  been  arranged. 

Next  the  crone  led  off  the  princess  and  laid  her  upon 
the  bed,  whispering  to  her  not  to  be  afraid.  At  once  the 
prince  sniffed  at  the  pepper  and  fell  a-sneezing.  And 
scarce  had  he  begun  to  sneeze  before  the  wise  woman  left 
the  princess  and  with  a  loud  scream  was  off,  quicker  than 
any  of  them.  Not  a  man  stood  his  ground ; — one  and  all 
they  threw  awav  their  arms  and  bolted  for  dear  life. 

V  tf 

Hereon  the  prince  came  forth  and  bore  off  the  princess 
to  his  home,  as  had  been  before  arranged.  And  the  old 
woman  made  her  way  to  the  king  and  told  him  what  had 

"  Well,"  thought  the  king,  "  I  always  intended  her  for 
him,  and  they've  grown  up  together  like  ghee  in  rice- 
porridge."  So  he  didn't  fly  into  a  passion,  but  in  course 
of  time  made  his  nephew  king  of  the  land,  with  his 
daughter  as  queen-consort. 

Now  the  new  king  kept  on  in  his  service  the  brahmin 
who  professed  to  tell  the  temper  of  swords,  and  one  day 
as  he  stood  in  the  sun,  the  false  tip  to  the  brahmin's  nose 
got  loose  and  fell  off.  And  there  he  stood,  hanging  his 
head  for  very  shame.  "  Never  mind,  never  mind,"  laughed 
the  king.  "  Sneezing  is  good  for  some,  but  bad  for  others. 
One  sneeze  lost  you  your  nose ;  whilst  I  have  to  thank  a 
sneeze  for  both  my  throne  and  queen."  So  saying  he 
uttered  this  stanza: 

Our  diverse  fates  this  moral  shew, 
-What  brings  one  weal,  may  work  another  woe. 

So  spake  the  king,  and  after  a  life  spent  in  charity 


and  other  good  works,  he  passed  away  to  fare  according 
to  his  deserts. 

Buddha  tells  this  tale  to  ridicule  the  superstition  of  luck  in  sneezing.  In  Jut.  155 
Buddha  permits  the  brethren,  when  they  sneeze,  and  someone  says,  "Long  lite  to 
you,  Sir ! "  to  reply,  "  The  same  to  you."  But  a  brother  who  says  "  Long  life "  is 
guilty  of  a  sin.  On  the  folklore  of  sneezing  see  Tylor,  Prim.  Ctdttire,  i.  97  ff.  (1903). 


Once  011  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  a  rat,  perfect  in 
wisdom,  and  as  big  as  a  young  boar.  He  had  his 
dwelling  in  the  forest  and  many  hundreds  of  other  rats 
owned  his  sway. 

Now  there  was  a  roving  jackal  who  espied  this  troop 
of  rats  and  fell  to  scheming  how  to  beguile  and  eat  them. 
And  he  took  up  his  stand  near  their  home  with  his  face 
to  the  sun,  snuffing  up  the  wind,  and  standing  on  one 
leg.  Seeing  this  when  out  on  his  road  in  quest  of  food, 
the  Bodhisatta  conceived  the  jackal  to  be  a  saintly  being, 
and  went  up  and  asked  his  name. 

" '  Godly '  is  my  name,"  said  the  jackal.  "  Why  do  you 
stand  only  on  one  leg  ? "  "  Because  if  I  stood  on  all  four 
at  once,  the  earth  could  not  bear  my  weight.  That  is 
why  I  stand  on  one  leg  only."  "And  why  do  you  keep 
your  mouth  open?"  "To  take  the  air.  I  live  on  air; 
it  is  my  only  food."  "And  why  do  you  face  the  sun?" 
"  To  worship  him."  "  What  uprightness  !  "  thought  the 
Bodhisatta,  and  thenceforward  he  made  a  point  of  going, 
attended  by  the  other  rats,  to  pay  his  respects  morning 
and  evening  to  the  saintly  jackal.  And  when  the  rats 
were  leaving,  the  jackal  seized  and  devoured  the  hinder- 
most  one  of  them,  wiped  his  lips,  and  looked  as  though 


nothing  had  happened.  In  consequence  of  this  the  rats 
grew  fewer  and  fewer,  till  they  noticed  the  gaps  in  their 
ranks,  and  wondering  why  this  was  so,  asked  the  Bodhi- 
satta  the  reason.  He  could  not  make  it  out,  but 
suspecting  the  jackal,  resolved  to  put  him  to  the  test. 
So  next  day  he  let  the  other  rats  go  out  first  and  himself 
brought  up  the  rear.  The  jackal  made  a  spring  on  the 
Bodhisatta  who,  seeing  him  coming,  faced  round  and 
cried,  "So  this  is  your  saintliness,  you  hypocrite  and 
rascal ! "  And  he  repeated  the  following  stanza : 

Where  saiutliuess  is  but  a  cloak 
Whereby  to  cozen  guileless  folk 
And  screen  a  villain's  treachery, 
-The  cat-like  nature  there  we  see. 

So  saying,  the  king  of  the  rats  sprang  at  the  jackal's 
throat  and  bit  his  windpipe  asunder  just  under  the  jaw, 
so  that  he  died.  Back  trooped  the  other  rats  and 
gobbled  up  the  body  of  the  jackal  with  a  '  crunch,  crunch, 
crunch ' ; — that  is  to  say,  the  foremost  of  them  did,  for  they 
say  there  was  none  left  for  the  last-comers.  And  ever 
after  the  rats  lived  happily  in  peace  and  quiet. 

Though  the  foregoing  prose  relates  to  a  jackal,  the  stanza  speaks  of  a  cat  (bildra), 
as  does  the  version  in  Tib.  T.  XL.  In  the  variant  Jat.  129  the  jackal  wins  confidence 
through  the  tuft  of  hair  on  his  head,  resembling  an  ascetic's  tonsure,  which  was  all 
the  hair  he  had  left  after  escaping  a  forest  fire.  This  is  the  same  motive  as  The  blue 
Jackal,  P.  (T.)  I.  8.  In  Jat.  384  the  hypocrite  is  a  crow,  which  is  closest  to  the  version 
of  Mb/i.  ii.  ch.  41,  where  the  egg-eater  is  a  goose.  Hertel  compares  P.  (T.)  nr.  14, 
(B.)  in.  2  in  which  a  sparrow  and  hare  go  to  a  hypocritical  cat  to  decide  a  dispute. 
Som.  LXII.  46  (ii.  67),  but  cf.  Jat.  400,  p.  267. 


Once  upon  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  a  brahmin,  and  growing 
up  was  married  to  a  bride  of  his  own  rank,  who  bore  him 
three  daughters  named  Nanda,  Nandavati  and  Sundari- 
nanda.  The  Bodhisatta  dying,  they  were  taken  in  by 
neighbours  and  friends,  whilst  he  was  born  again  into  the 
world  as  a  golden  goose  endowed  with  consciousness  of 
its  former  existences.  Growing  up,  the  bird  viewed  his  own 
magnificent  size  and  golden  plumage,  and  remembered 
that  previously  he  had  been  a  human  being.  Discovering 
that  his  wife  and  daughters  were  living  on  the  charity  of 
others,  the  goose  bethought  him  of  his  plumage  like 
hammered  and  beaten  gold  and  how  by  giving  them  a 
golden  feather  at  a  time  he  could  enable  his  wife  and 
daughters  to  live  in  comfort.  So  away  he  flew  to  where 
they  dwelt  and  alighted  on  the  top  of  the  central  beam 
of  the  roof.  Seeing  the  Bodhisatta,  the  wife  and  girls 
asked  where  he  had  come  from ;  and  he  told  them  that  he 
was  their  father  who  had  died  and  been  born  a  golden 
goose,  and  that  he  had  come  to  visit  them  and  put  an 
end  to  their  miserable  necessity  of  working  for  hire. 
"You  shall  have  my  feathers,"  said  he,  "one  by  one, 
and  they  will  sell  for  enough  to  keep  you  all  in  ease 
and  comfort."  So  saying,  he  gave  them  one  of  his 
feathers  and  departed.  And  from  time  to  time  he 
returned  to  give  them  another  feather,  and  with  the  pro- 
ceeds of  their  sale  these  brahmin-women  grew  prosperous 
and  quite  well-to-do.  But  one  day  the  mother  said  to  her 
daughters,  "  There's  no  trusting  animals,  my  children. 
Who's  to  say  your  father  might  not  go  away  one  of  these 
days  and  never  come  back  again  ?  Let  us  use  our  time  and 


pluck  him  clean  next  time  he  comes,  so  as  to  make  sure  of 
all  his  feathers."  Thinking  this  would  pain  him,  the 
daughters  refused.  The  mother  in  her  greed  called  the 
golden  goose  to  her  one  day  when  he  came,  and  then 
took  him  with  both  hands  and  plucked  him.  Now  the 
Bodhisatta's  feathers  had  this  property  that  if  they  were 
plucked  out  against  his  wish,  they  ceased  to  be  golden 
and  became  like  a  crane's  feathers.  And  now  the  poor 
bird,  though  he  stretched  his  wings,  could  not  fly,  and  the 
woman  flung  him  into  a  barrel  and  gave  him  food  there. 
As  time  went  on  his  feathers  grew  again  (though  they 
were  plain  white  ones  now),  and  he  flew  away  to  his  own 
abode  and  never  came  back  again. 

This  is  more  closely  related  to  Aesop's  Goose  icith  the  gulden  Eggs,  Halm  343, 
Babr.  123,  than  are  other  Indian  variants.  In  P.  (B.)  in.  5  a  brahmin  feeds  a 
snake,  and  finds  daily  a  dinar  in  the  bowl  His  son  to  get  the  whole  treasure  tries 
to  kill  the  snake,  but  is  bitten  and  killed.  The  snake  tells  the  brahmin  that  he  comes 
from  greed,  and  refuses  to  have  any  more  to  do  with  him.  In  Gesta  Rum.  141  (133) 
it  is  the  father  who  tries  to  kill  the  snake.  Hausrath,  however,  connects  this  with 
The  Countryman  and  Snake,  Halm  97,  Babr.  167.  In  P.  (B.)  in.  13  a  fowler  catches 
a  bird  whose  excrements  turn  to  gold,  and  gives  it  to  the  king.  He  refuses  to  believe 
the  fowler  and  sets  the  bird  free.  See  the  gipsy  variant  in  the  note  to  Jat.  284, 
p.  218.  Of.  Jacobs  67,  Clouston,  i.  123  ff. 


Once  on  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  a  stone-cutter,  and  grow- 
ing up  became  expert  in  working  stones.  Now  in  the  Kasi 
country  there  dwelt  a  very  rich  merchant  who  had  amassed 
forty  crores  in  gold.  And  when  his  wife  died,  so  strong 
was  her  love  of  money  that  she  was  re-born  a  mouse  and 
dwelt  over  the  treasure.  And  one  by  one  the  whole  family 
died,  including  the  merchant  himself.  Likewise  the  village 
became  deserted  and  forlorn.  At  the  time  of  our  story 


the  Bodhisatta  was  quarrying  and  shaping  stones  on  the 
site  of  this  deserted  village  ;  and  the  mouse  used  often  to 
see  him  as  she  ran  about  to  find  food.  At  last  she  fell  in 
love  with  him ;  and,  bethinking  her  how  the  secret  of  all 
her  vast  wealth  would  die  with  her,  she  conceived  the  idea 
of  enjoying  it  with  him.  So  one  day  she  came  to  the 
Bodhisatta  with  a  coin  in  her  mouth.  Seeing  this,  he  spoke 
to  her  kindly,  and  said,  "  Mother,  what  has  brought  you 
here  with  this  coin  ? "  "  It  is  for  you  to  lay  out  for  your- 
self, and  to  buy  meat  with  for  me  as  well,  my  son."  Nowise 
loth,  he  took  the  money  and  spent  a  halfpenny  of  it  on 
meat  which  he  brought  to  the  mouse,  who  departed  and 
ate  to  her  heart's  content.  And  this  went  on,  the  mouse 
giving  the  Bodhisatta  a  coin  every  day,  and  he  in  return 
supplying  her  with  meat.  But  it  fell  out  one  day  that  the 
mouse  was  caught  by  a  cat. 

"  Don't  kill  me,"  said  the  mouse. 

"  Why  not  ? '  said  the  cat.  "  I'm  as  hungry  as  can  be, 
and  really  must  kill  you  to  allay  the  pangs." 

"  First,  tell  me  whether  you're  always  hungry,  or  only 
hungry  to-day." 

"  Oh,  every  day  finds  me  hungry  again." 

"  Well  then,  if  this  be  so,  I  will  find  you  always  in  meat ; 
only  let  me  go." 

"  Mind  you  do  then,"  said  the  cat,  and  let  the  mouse  go. 

As  a  consequence  of  this  the  mouse  had  to  divide  the 
supplies  of  meat  she  got  from  the  Bodhisatta  into  two 
portions  and  gave  one  half  to  the  cat,  keeping  the  other 
for  herself. 

Now,  as  luck  would  have  it,  the  same  mouse  was  caught 
another  day  by  a  second  cat  and  had  to  purchase  her 
release  on  the  same  terms.  So  now  the  daily  food  was 
divided  into  three  portions.  And  when  a  third  cat  caught 


the  mouse  and  a  like  arrangement  had  to  be  made,  the 
supply  was  divided  into  four  portions.  And  later  a  fourth 
cat  caught  her,  and  the  food  had  to  be  divided  among  five, 
so  that  the  mouse,  reduced  to  such  short  commons,  grew 
so  thin  as  to  be  nothing  but  skin  and  bone.  Remarking 
how  emaciated  his  friend  was  getting,  the  Bodhisatta 
asked  the  reason.  Then  the  mouse  told  him  all  that  had 
befallen  her. 

"  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  all  this  before  ? "  said  the 
Bodhisatta.  "  Cheer  up,  I'll  help  you  out  of  your  troubles." 
So  he  took  a  block  of  the  purest  crystal  and  scooped  out 
a  cavity  in  it  and  made  the  mouse  get  inside.  "  Now  stop 
there,"  said  he,  "and  don't  fail  to  fiercely  threaten  and 
revile  all  who  come  near." 

So  the  mouse  crept  into  the  crystal  cell  and  waited. 
Up  came  one  of  the  cats  and  demanded  his  meat.  "Away, 
vile  grimalkin,"  said  the  mouse;  "  why  should  I  supply  you? 
go  home  and  eat  your  kittens!"  Infuriated  at  these  words, 
and  never  suspecting  the  mouse  to  be  inside  the  crystal, 
the  cat  sprang  at  the  mouse  to  eat  her  up  ;  and  so  furious 
was  its  spring  that  it  broke  the  walls  of  its  chest  and  its 
eyes  started  from  its  head.  So  that  cat  died  and  its 
carcass  tumbled  down  out  of  sight.  And  the  like  fate  in 
turn  befell  all  four  cats.  And  ever  after  the  grateful 
mouse  brought  the  Bodhisatta  two  or  three  coins  instead 
of  one  as  before,  and  by  degrees  she  thus  gave  him  the 
whole  of  the  hoard.  In  unbroken  friendship  the  two  lived 
together,  till  their  lives  ended  and  they  passed  away  to 
fare  according  to  their  deserts. 

Buddhaghosa  xvm,  where  the  Bodhisatta  is  excavating  a  stone  temple,  and  makes 
a  small  hole  in  the  temple,  where  the  rat  can  be  safe  from  the  cats.  See  references 
to  the  grateful  beasts  on  Jat.  73,  p.  78,  and  for  re-birth  in  the  place  where  wealth  is 
hoarded  Jat.  39,  p.  41,  Jat.  73,  p.  73. 


Once  on  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  a  lizard.  When  he  grew 
up  he  dwelt  in  a  big  burrow  in  the  river  bank  with  a 
following  of  many  hundreds  of  other  lizards.  Now  the 
Bodhisatta  had  a  son,  a  young  lizard,  who  was  great  friends 
with  a  chameleon,  whom  he  used  to  clip  and  embrace. 
This  intimacy  being  reported  to  the  lizard  king,  he  sent 
for  his  young  son  and  said  that  such  friendship  was  mis- 
placed, for  chameleons  were  low  creatures,  and  that  if  the 
intimacy  was  persisted  in,  calamity  would  befall  the  whole 
of  the  tribe  of  lizards.  And  he  enjoined  his  son  to  have 
no  more  to  do  with  the  chameleon.  But  the  son  continued 
in  his  intimacy.  Again  and  again  did  the  Bodhisatta 
speak  with  his  son,  but  finding  his  words  of  no  avail,  and 
foreseeing  danger  to  the  lizards  from  the  chameleon,  he 
had  an  outlet  cut  on  one  side  of  their  burrow,  so  that  there 
might  be  a  means  of  escape  in  time  of  need. 

Now  as  time  went  on,  the  young  lizard  grew  to  a  great 
size,  whilst  the  chameleon  never  grew  any  bigger.  And  as 
these  mountainous  embraces  of  the  young  giant  grew  pain- 
ful indeed,  the  chameleon  foresaw  that  they  would  be  the 
death  of  him  if  they  went  on  a  few  days  longer,  and  he 
resolved  to  combine  with  a  hunter  to  destroy  the  whole 
tribe  of  lizards. 

One  day  in  the  summer  the  ants  came  out  after  a 
thunder-storm,  and  the  lizards  darted  hither  and  thither 
catching  them  and  eating  them.  Now  there  came  into 
the  forest  a  lizard  trapper  with  spade  and  dogs  to  dig 
out  lizards;  and  the  chameleon  thought  what  a  haul  he 
would  put  in  the  trapper's  way.  So  he  went  up  to  the 


man,  and,  lying  down  before  him,  asked  why  he  was  about 
in  the  forest.  "  To  catch  lizards,"  was  the  reply.  "  Well, 
I  know  where  there's  a  burrow  of  hundreds  of  them,"  said 
the  chameleon ;  "bring  fire  and  brushwood  and  follow  me." 
And  he  brought  the  trapper  to  where  the  lizards  dwelt. 
"  Now,"  said  the  chameleon,  "  put  your  fuel  in  there  and 
smoke  the  lizards  out.  Meantime  let  your  dogs  be  all 
round  and  take  a  big  stick  in  your  hand.  Then  as  the 
lizards  dash  out,  strike  them  down  and  make  a  pile  of  the 
slain."  So  saying,  the  treacherous  chameleon  withdrew  to 
a  spot  hard  by,  where  he  lay  down,  with  his  head  up,  saying 
to  himself, — "  This  day  I  shall  see  the  back  of  my  enemy." 
The  trapper  set  to  work  to  smoke  the  lizards  out ;  and 
fear  for  their  lives  drove  them  helter-skelter  from  their 
burrow.  As  they  came  out,  the  trapper  knocked  them  on 
the  head,  and  if  he  missed  them,  they  fell  a  prey  to  his  dogs. 
And  so  there  was  great  slaughter  among  the  lizards. 
Realising  that  this  was  the  chameleon's  doing,  the 
Bodhisatta  cried,  "  One  should  never  make  friends  of  the 
wicked,  for  such  bring  sorrow  in  their  train.  A  single 
wicked  chameleon  has  proved  the  bane  of  all  these  lizards." 
So  saying,  he  escaped  by  the  outlet  he  had  provided, 
uttering  this  stanza : 

Bad  company  can  never  end  in  good. 
Through  friendship  with  one  sole  chameleon 
The  tribe  of  lizards  met  their  end. 

In  the  frame  story  of  P.  in.  the  owls  are  destroyed  by  the  crows  through  the 
same  means  as  in  the  above  jataka,  Julien  5.  The  teaching  of  the  actual  story  is  too 
unbuddhistic  for  it  to  be  adopted  as  a  jataka,  but  the  enmity  of  the  crows  and  owls 
is  referred  to  in  the  jatakas,  cf.  Jat.  270,  p.  213.  In  226  an  owl  that  comes  out  at  an 
unseasonable  time  is  killed  by  crows. 


Once  on  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  a  jackal,  and  dwelt  in  a 
charnel-grove  with  a  great  following  of  jackals  of  whom  he 
was  king.  And  at  that  time  there  was  a  festival  held  at 
Rajagaha,  and  a  very  wet  festival  it  was,  with  everybody 
drinking  hard.  Now  a  parcel  of  rogues  got  hold  of  victual 
and  drink  in  abundance,  and  putting  on  their  best  clothes 
sang  and  made  merry  over  their  fare.  By  midnight  the 
meat  was  all  gone,  though  the  liquor  still  held  out.  Then 
on  one  asking  for  more  meat  and  being  told  there  was 
none  left,  said  the  fellow,  "  Victuals  never  lack  while  I  am 
about.  I'll  off  to  the  charnel-grove,  kill  a  jackal  prowling 
about  to  eat  the  corpses,  and  bring  back  some  meat."  So 
saying  he  snatched  up  a  club  and  made  his  way  out  of  the 
city  by  the  sewer  to  the  place,  where  he  lay  down,  club  in 
hand,  feigning  to  be  dead.  Just  then,  followed  by  the 
other  jackals,  the  Bodhisatta  came  up  and  marked  the 
pretended  corpse.  Suspecting  the  fraud,  he  determined 
to  sift  the  matter.  So  he  went  round  to  the  lee  side  and 
knew  by  the  scent  that  the  man  was  not  really  dead. 
Resolving  to  make  the  man  look  foolish  before  leaving 
him,  the  Bodhisatta  stole  near  and  took  hold  of  the  club 
with  his  teeth  and  tugged  at  it.  The  rascal  did  not  leave 
go :  not  perceiving  the  Bodhisatta's  approach,  he  took 
a  tighter  grip.  Hereon  the  Bodhisatta  stepped  back  a 
pace  or  two  and  said,  "  My  good  man,  if  you  had  been  dead, 
you  would  not  have  tightened  your  grip  on  your  club  when 
I  was  tugging  at  it,  and  so  have  betrayed  yourself."  So 
saying,  he  uttered  this  stanza  : 

Thy  tightening  grip  upon  thy  club  doth  shew 
Thy  rank  imposture — thou'rt  no  corpse,  I  trow. 


Finding  that  he  was  discovered,  the  rogue  sprang  to 
his  feet  and  flung  his  club  at  the  Bodhisatta,  but  missed 
his  aim.  "Be  off,  you  brute,"  said  he,  "I've  missed  you 
this  time."  Turning  round,  the  Bodhisatta  said,  "True 
you  have  missed  me,  but  be  assured  you  will  not  miss  the 
torments  of  the  Great  Hell  and  the  sixteen  Lesser  Hells." 

Empty-handed,  the  rogue  left  the  cemetery  and,  after 
bathing  in  a  ditch,  went  back  into  the  city  by  the  way  he 
had  come. 


Once  on  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  a  maned  lion  and  dwelt  at 
Gold  Den  in  the  Himalayas.  Bounding  forth  one  day  from 
his  lair,  he  looked  North  and  West,  South  and  East,  and 
roared  aloud  as  he  went  in  quest  of  prey.  Slaying  a  large 
buffalo,  he  devoured  the  prime  of  the  carcass,  after  which 
he  went  down  to  a  pool,  and  having  drunk  his  fill  of  crystal 
water  turned  to  go  towards  his  den.  Now  a  hungry  jackal, 
suddenly  meeting  the  lion,  and  being  unable  to  make  his 
escape,  threw  himself  at  the  lion's  feet.  Being  asked  what 
he  wanted,  the  jackal  replied,  "Lord,  let  me  be  your 
servant."  "  Very  well,"  said  the  lion  ;  "  serve  me  and  you 
shall  feed  on  prime  meat."  So  saying,  he  went  with  the 
jackal  following  to  Gold  Den.  Thenceforth  the  lion's 
leavings  fell  to  the  jackal,  and  he  grew  fat. 

Lying  one  day  in  his  den,  the  lion  told  the  jackal  to 
scan  the  valleys  from  the  mountain  top,  to  see  whether 
there  were  any  elephants  or  horses  or  buffaloes  about,  or 
any  other  animals  of  which  he,  the  jackal,  was  fond. 
If  any  such  were  in  sight,  the  jackal  was  to  report  and  say 


with  due  obeisance,  "Shine  forth  in  thy  might,  Lord."  Then 
the  lion  promised  to  kill  and  eat,  giving  a  part  to  the 
jackal.  80  the  jackal  used  to  climb  the  heights,  and  when- 
ever he  espied  below  beasts  to  his  taste,  he  would  report 
it  to  the  lion,  and  falling  at  his  feet,  say,  "  Shine  forth  in 
thy  might,  Lord."  Hereon  the  lion  would  nimbly  bound 
forth  and  slay  the  beast,  even  if  it  were  a  rutting  elephant, 
and  share  the  prime  of  the  carcass  with  the  jackal. 
Glutted  with  his  meal,  the  jackal  would  then  retire  to  his 
den  and  sleep. 

Now  as  time  went  on,  the  jackal  grew  bigger  and 
bigger  till  he  grew  haughty.  "  Have  not  I  too  four  legs  ? ' 
he  asked  himself.  "  Why  am  I  a  pensioner  day  by  day  on 
others'  bounty  ?  Henceforth  /  will  kill  elephants  and  other 
beasts,  for  my  own  eating.  The  lion,  king  of  beasts,  only 
kills  them  because  of  the  formula,  '  Shine  forth  in  thy 
might,  Lord.'  I'll  make  the  lion  call  out  to  me,  'Shine 
forth  in  thy  might,  jackal,'  and  then  I'll  kill  an  elephant 
for  myself."  Accordingly  he  went  to  the  lion,  and  pointing 
out  that  he  had  long  lived  on  what  the  lion  had  killed,  told 
his  desire  to  eat  an  elephant  of  his  own  killing,  ending  with 
a  request  to  the  lion  to  let  him,  the  jackal,  couch  in  the 
lion's  corner  in  Gold  Den  whilst  the  lion  was  to  climb  the 
mountain  to  look  out  for  an  elephant.  The  quarry  found, 
he  asked  that  the  lion  should  come  to  him  in  the  den  and 
say,  "Shine  forth  in  thy  might,  jackal."  He  begged  the 
lion  not  to  grudge  him  this  much.  Said  the  lion,  "  Jackal, 
only  lions  can  kill  elephants,  nor  has  the  world  ever  seen 
a  jackal  able  to  cope  with  them.  Give  up  this  fancy,  and 
continue  to  feed  on  what  I  kill."  But  say  what  the  lion 
could,  the  jackal  Avould  not  give  way,  and  still  pressed  his 
request.  So  at  last  the  lion  gave  way,  and  bidding  the 
jackal  couch  in  the  den,  climbed  the  peak  and  thence 


espied  an  elephant  in  rut.  Returning  to  the  mouth  of 
the  cave,  he  said,  "Shine  forth  in  thy  might,  jackal." 
Then  from  Gold  Den  the  jackal  nimbly  bounded  forth, 
looked  around  him  on  all  four  sides,  and,  thrice  raising  its 
howl,  sprang  at  the  elephant,  meaning  to  fasten  on  its 
head.  But  missing  his  aim,  he  alighted  at  the  elephant's 
feet.  The  infuriated  brute  raised  its  right  foot  and  crushed 
the  jackal's  head,  trampling  the  bones  into  powder.  Then 
pounding  the  carcass  into  a  mass,  and  dunging  upon  it, 
the  elephant  clashed  trumpeting  into  the  forest.  Seeing 
all  this,  the  Bodhisatta  observed,  "  Now  shine  forth  in  thy 
might,  jackal,"  and  uttered  this  stanza : 

Tour  mangled  corpse,  your  brains  mashed  into  clay, 
Prove  how  you've  shone  forth  in  your  might  to-day. 

Thus  spake  the  Bodhisatta,  and  living  to  a  good  old 
age  he  passed  away  in  the  fulness  of  time  to  fare  according 
to  his  deserts. 

See  Jat.  204,  p.  169,  and  parallels  given  there.     Jat.  335  is  a  variant  version. 


Once  on  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  a  sea-spirit.  Now  a  crow  with 
his  mate  came  down  in  quest  of  food  to  the  sea-shore 
where,  just  before,  certain  persons  had  been  offering 
to  the  Nagas  a  sacrifice  of  milk,  and  rice,  and  fish,  and 
meat  and  strong  drink  and  the  like.  Up  came  the  crow 
and  with  his  mate  ate  freely  of  the  elements  of  the  sacrifice, 
and  drank  a  great  deal  of  the  spirits.  So  they  both  got 
very  drunk.  Then  they  wanted  to  disport  themselves  in 
the  sea,  and  were  trying  to  swim  on  the  surf,  when  a  wave 


swept  the  hen-crow  out  to  sea  and  a  fish  came  and  gobbled 
her  up. 

"  Oh,  my  poor  wife  is  dead,"  cried  the  crow,  bursting 
into  tears  and  lamentations.  Then  a  crowd  of  crows  were 
drawn  by  his  wailing  to  the  spot  to  learn  what  ailed  him. 
And  when  he  told  them  how  his  wife  had  been  carried  out 
to  sea,  they  all  began  with  one  voice  to  lament.  Suddenly 
the  thought  struck  them  that  they  were  stronger  than  the 
sea  and  that  all  they  had  to  do  was  to  empty  it  out  and 
rescue  their  comrade !  So  they  set  to  work  with  their 
bills  to  empty  the  sea  out  by  mouthfuls,  betaking  them- 
selves to  dry  land  to  rest  so  soon  as  their  throats  were  sore 
with  the  salt  water.  And  so  they  toiled  away  till  their 
mouths  and  jaws  were  dry  and  inflamed  and  their  eyes 
bloodshot,  and  they  were  ready  to  drop  for  weariness. 
Then  in  despair  they  turned  to  one  another  and  said  that 
it  was  in  vain  they  laboured  to  empty  the  sea,  for  no  sooner 
had  they  got  rid  of  the  water  in  one  place  than  more 
flowed  in,  and  there  was  all  their  work  to  do  over  again ; 
they  would  never  succeed  in  baling  the  water  out  of  the 
sea.  And,  so  saying,  they  uttered  this  stanza : 

Our  jaws  are  tired,  our  mouths  are  sore; 
The  sea  refllleth  evermore. 

Then  all  the  crows  fell  to  praising  the  beauty  of  her 
beak  and  eyes,  her  complexion,  figure  and  sweet  voice, 
saying  that  it  was  her  excellences  that  had  provoked  the 
sea  to  steal  her  from  them.  But  as  they  talked  this 
nonsense,  the  sea-spirit  made  a  bogey  appear  from  the  sea 
and  so  put  them  all  to  flight.  In  this  wise  they  were  saved. 

A  much  mutilated  version  of  P.  (T.)  i.  10,  (B.)  I.  12,  Sandpiper  and  Sea.  The  eggs 
of  the  birds  are  carried  away  by  the  sea,  but  restored  by  Vishnu  on  the  birds  appealing 
to  his  bird  Garutmat.  Som.  LX.  163  (ii.  36),  K.  D.  (Syr.)  I.  10,  (Arab.)  v.  Cf.  the  fable 
of  the  dogs  who  try  to  drink  a  river  dry  in  order  to  get  out  a  hide,  Phaedr.  i.  20. 
Jacobs  71. 


Once  on  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  re-born  into  life  as  a  jackal 
and  dwelt  iu  the  forest  by  the  river-side.  Now  an  old 
elephant  died  by  the  banks  of  the  Ganges,  and  the  jackal, 
finding  the  carcass,  congratulated  himself  on  lighting  upon 
such  a  store  of  meat.  First  he  bit  the  trunk,  but  that  was 
like  biting  a  plough-handle.  "There's  no  eating  here," 
said  the  jackal  and  took  a  bite  at  a  tusk.  But  that  was 
like  biting  bones.  Then  he  tried  an  ear,  but  that  was  like 
chewing  the  rim  of  a  winnowing-basket.  So  he  fell  to  on 
the  stomach,  but  found  it  as  tough  as  a  grain-basket.  The 
feet  were  no  better,  for  they  were  like  a  mortar.  Next  he 
tried  the  tail,  but  that  was  like  the  pestle.  "That  won't 
do  either,"  said  the  jackal ;  and  having  failed  elsewhere  to 
find  a  toothsome  part,  he  tried  the  rear  and  found  that 
like  eating  a  soft  cake.  "  At  last,"  said  he,  "  I've  found  the 
right  place,''  and  ate  his  way  right  into  the  belly,  where  he 
made  a  plenteous  meal  off  the  kidneys,  heart  and  the  rest, 
quenching  his  thirst  with  the  blood.  And  when  night 
came  on,  he  lay  down  inside.  As  he  lay  there,  the  thought 
came  into  the  jackal's  mind,  "  This  carcass  is  both  meat 
and  house  to  me,  and  wherefore  should  I  leave  it  ? '  So 
there  he  stopped,  and  dwelt  in  the  elephant's  inwards, 
eating  away.  Time  wore  on  till  the  summer  sun  and  the 
summer  winds  dried  and  shrank  the  elephant's  hide, 
until  the  entrance  by  which  the  jackal  had  got  in  was 
closed  and  the  interior  was  in  utter  darkness.  Thus  the 
jackal  was,  as  it  were,  cut  off  from  the  world  and  confined 
in  the  interspace  between  the  worlds.  After  the  hide,  the 
flesh  dried  up  and  the  blood  was  exhausted.  In  a  frenzy 


of  despair,  he  rushed  to  and  fro  beating  against  his  prison 
walls  in  the  fruitless  endeavour  to  escape.  But  as  he 
bobbed  up  and  down  inside  like  a  ball  of  rice  in  a  boil- 
ing saucepan,  soon  a  tempest  broke  and  the  downpour 
moistened  the  shell  of  the  carcass  and  restored  it  to  its 
former  state,  till  light  shone  like  a  star  through  the  way 
by  which  the  jackal  had  got  in.  "  Saved  !  saved  ! '  cried 
the  jackal,  and,  backing  into  the  elephant's  head  made  a 
rush  head-first  at  the  outlet.  He  managed  to  get  through, 
it  is  true,  but  only  by  leaving  all  his  hair  on  the  way.  And 
first  he  ran,  then  he  halted,  and  then  sat  down  and  sur- 
veyed his  hairless  body,  now  smooth  as  a  palm-stem. 
"Ah!"  he  exclaimed,  "this  misfortune  has  befallen  me 
because  of  my  greed  and  my  greed  alone.  Henceforth  I 
will  not  be  greedy  nor  ever  again  get  into  the  carcass  of  an 
elephant."  And  his  terror  found  expression  in  this  stanza: 

Once  bitten,  twice  shy.    Ah,  great  was  iny  fear! 
Of  elephants'  inwards  henceforth  I'll  steer  clear. 

And  with  these  words  the  jackal  made  oft",  nor  did  he 
ever  again  so  much  as  look  either  at  that  or  at  any  other 
elephant's  carcass.  And  thenceforth  he  was  never  greedy 

Hertel  makes  a  far-fetched  comparison  with  the  fable  in  P.  (B.)  i.  2,  where  a 
jackal  breaks  open  a  drum  and  finds  it  empty,  a  fable  which  also  occurs  in  K.  1>. 
(Syr.)  i.  2,  (Arab.)  v.,  Som.  LX.  56  (ii.  30). 


Once  on  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  into  the  family  of  a 
wealthy  brahmin.  Arriving  at  years  of  discretion,  he  went 
to  study  at  Takkasila,  where  he  received  a  complete  edu- 
cation. In  Benares  as  a  teacher  he  enjoyed  world-wide 

F.   &  T.  9 


fame  and  had  five  hundred  young  brahmins  as  pupils. 
Among  these  was  one  named  Sanjlva,  to  whom  the 
Bodhisatta  taught  the  spell  for  raising  the  dead  to  life. 
But  though  the  young  mail  was  taught  this,  he  was  not 
taught  the  counter  charm.  Proud  of  his  new  power,  he 
went  with  his  fellow-pupils  to  the  forest  wood-gathering, 
and  there  came  on  a  dead  tiger. 

"  Now  see  me  bring  the  tiger  to  life  again,"  said  he. 

"  You  can't,"  said  they. 

"  You  look  and  you  will  see  me  do  it." 

"  Well,  if  you  can,  do  so,"  said  they,  and  climbed  up  a 
tree  forthwith. 

Then  Saiijlva  repeated  his  charm  and  struck  the  dead 
tiger  with  a  potsherd.  Up  started  the  tiger  and  quick  as 
lightning  sprang  at  Sarijiva  and  bit  him  on  the  throat, 
killing  him  outright,  Dead  fell  the  tiger  then  and  there, 
and  dead  fell  Sanjlva  too  at  the  same  spot.  So  there  the 
two  lay  dead  side  by  side. 

The  young  brahmins  took  their  wood  and  went  back  to 
their  master  to  whom  they  told  the  story.  "My  dear  pupils," 
said  he,  "  mark  herein  how  by  reason  of  shewing  favour  to 
the  sinful  and  paying  honour  where  it  was  not  due,  he  has 
brought  all  this  calamity  upon  himself."  And  so  saying  he 
uttered  this  stanza : 

Befriend  a  villain,  aid  him  in  his  need, 

And,  like  that  tiger  which  Sanjlva  raised 

To  life,  he  straight  devours  you  for  your  pains. 

Such  was  the  Bodhisatta's  lesson  to  the  young  brahmins, 
and  after  a  life  of  almsgiving  and  other  good  deeds  he 
passed  away  to  fare  according  to  his  deserts. 

P.  (B.)  v.  4,  The  Lion-makers,  Vet.  21.     This  tale  and  Jat.  527,  Vet.  16,  are  the 
only  jatakas  in  common  with  Vet.,  except  a  doubtful  parallel  in  Jat.  200,  p.  168. 


Once  upon  a  time,  when  Brahmadatta  was  king  of 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  conceived  by  his  Queen 
Consort;  and  the  ceremonies  proper  to  her  state  having 
been  duly  done1,  she  was  afterwards  safely  delivered.  On 
his  name-day,  the  name  they  gave  him  was  Prince  Brah- 

In  course  of  time,  he  grew  up,  and  at  sixteen  years 
went  to  Takkasila2  for  his  education ;  where  he  mastered 
all  branches  of  learning,  and  on  his  father's  death  he 
became  king  in  his  stead,  and  ruled  with  uprightness  and 
all  rectitude,  administering  justice  with  no  regard  had  to 
his  own  will  or  whim.  And  as  he  ruled  thus  justly,  his 
ministers  on  their  part  were  also  just;  thus,  while  all 
things  were  justly  done,  there  was  none  who  brought  a 
false  suit  into  court.  Presently  all  the  bustle  of  suitors 
ceased  within  the  precincts  of  the  palace ;  all  day  long  the 
ministers  might  sit  on  the  bench,  and  go  away  without 
seeing  a  single  suitor.  The  courts  wrere  deserted. 

O  O 

Then  the  Bodhisatta  thought  to  himself,  "Because  of 
my  just  government  not  one  suitor  comes  to  try  issue  in 
court ;  the  old  hubbub  is  quiet ;  the  courts  of  law  are 
deserted.  Now  I  must  search  whether  I  have  any  fault 
in  me;  which  if  I  find,  I  will  eschew  it,  and  live  a  good 
life  hereafter."  From  that  time  he  tried  continually  to 
find  some  one  who  would  tell  him  of  a  fault;  but  of  all 
who  were  about  him  at  court  he  could  not  find  one  such; 
nothing  could  he  hear  but  good  of  himself.  "Perhaps," 
thought  he,  "  they  are  all  so  much  afraid  of  me  that  they 

1  Lit.  "protection  to  the  embryo";  doubtless  some  magical  rite. 

2  The  great  University  town  of  India  (Ta£iXa);  it  was  in  the  Punjab. 



say  no  ill  of  me  but  only  good,"  and  so  he  went  about  to 
try  those  who  were  outside  his  walls.  But  with  these  it 
was  just  the  same.  Then  he  made  inquisition  of  the 
citizens  at  large,  and  outside  the  city  questioned  those 
who  belonged  to  the  suburbs  at  the  four  city  gates.  Still 
there  was  none  who  had  any  fault  to  find;  nothing  but 
praises  could  he  hear.  Lastly,  with  intent  to  try  the 
country  side,  he  entrusted  all  government  to  his  ministers, 
and  mounted  in  his  carriage,  and  taking  only  the  driver 
with  him,  left  the  city  in  disguise.  All  the  country  he 
traversed,  even  to  the  frontier;  but  not  a  fault-finder  could 
he  light  upon ;  all  he  could  hear  was  only  his  own  praises. 
So  back  he  turned  from  the  marches,  and  set  his  face 
homewards  again  by  the  high-road. 

Now  it  fortuned  that  at  this  very  time  Mallika,  the  king 
of  Kosala,  had  done  the  very  same  thing.  He  too  was  a 
just  king,  and  he  had  been  searching  for  his  faults;  but 
amongst  those  about  him  there  was  none  who  had  any 
fault  to  find ;  and  hearing  nothing  but  praise,  he  had  been 
making  enquiry  throughout  all  the  country,  and  had  but 
then  arrived  at  that  same  spot. 

These  two  met,  in  a  place  where  the  carriage-road  was 
deeply  sunk  between  two  banks,  and  there  was  no  room 
for  one  carriage  to  pass  another. 

"  Get  your  carriage  out  of  the  way! "  said  king  Mallika's 
driver  to  the  driver  of  the  king  of  Benares. 

"  No,  no,  driver,"  said  he,  "  out  of  the  way  with  yours ! 
Know  that  in  this  carriage  sits  the  great  monarch  Brahma- 
datta,  lord  of  the  kingdom  of  Benares!" 

"Not  so,  driver!"  replied  the  other,  "in  this  carriage 
sits  the  great  king  Mallika,  lord  of  the  realm  of  Kosala ! 
It  is  for  you  to  make  way,  and  to  give  place  to  the  carriage 
of  our  king!" 

THE   TWO   GOOD   KINGS  133 

"Why,  here's  a  king  too,"  thought  the  driver  of  the 
king  of  Benares.  "  What  in  the  world  is  to  be  done  ? " 
Then  a  thought  struck  him ;  he  would  enquire  what  should 
be  the  age  of  the  two  kings,  so  that  the  younger  should 
give  way  to  the  elder.  And  he  made  enquiry  of  the  other 
driver  how  old  his  king  was ;  but  he  learnt  that  both  were 
of  the  same  age.  Thereupon  he  asked  the  extent  of  this 
king's  power,  wealth,  and  glory,  and  all  points  touching 
his  caste  and  clan  and  his  family;  discovering  that  both 
of  them  had  a  country  three  hundred  leagues  long,  and 
that  they  were  alike  in  power,  wealth,  glory,  and  the  nature 
of  their  family  and  lineage.  Then  he  bethought  him  that 
place  might  be  given  to  the  better  man ;  so  he  requested 
that  the  other  driver  should  describe  his  master's  virtues. 
The  man  replied  by  the  first  verse  of  poetry  following,  in 
which  he  set  forth  his  monarch's  faults  as  though  they 
were  so  many  virtues: 

Rough  to  the  rough,  king-  Mallika  the  mild  with  mildness  sways, 
Masters  the  good  by  goodness,  and  the  bad  with  badness  pays. 
Give  place,  give  place,  0  driver!    such  are  this  monarch's  ways! 

"  Oh,"  said  the  man  of  the  king  of  Benares,  "  is  that  all 
you  have  to  say  about  your  king's  virtues  ? "  "  Yes,"  said 
the  other. — "  If  these  are  his  virtues,  what  must  his  vices 
be ! "  "  Vices  be  it,  then,"  quoth  he,  "  if  you  will ;  but  let 
us  hear  what  your  king's  virtues  may  be  like!"  "Listen 
then,"  rejoined  the  first,  and  repeated  the  second  verse: 

He  conquers  wrath  by  mildness,  the  bad  with  goodness  sways, 
By  gifts  the  miser  vanquishes  and  lies  with  truth  repays. 
Give  place,  give  place,  0  driver !  such  are  this  monarch's  ways l 1 

At  these  words  both  king  Mallika  and  his  driver  de- 
scended from  their  carriage,  and  loosed  the  horses,  and 
moved  it  out  of  the  way,  to  give  place  to  the  king  of 

1  Dhammapada,  verse  223. 


Benares.  Then  the  king  of  Benares  gave  good  admonition 
to  king  Mallika,  saying,  "  Thus  and  thus  must  you  do " ; 
after  which  he  returned  to  Benares,  and  there  gave  alms 
and  did  good  all  his  life,  till  at  the  last  he  went  to  swell 
the  hosts  of  heaven.  And  king  Mallika  took  the  lesson  to 
heart ;  and  after  traversing  the  length  and  breadth  of  the 
land,  and  lighting  upon  none  who  had  any  fault  to  find  in 
him,  returned  to  his  own  city;  where  he  gave  alms  all  his 
life  and  did  good,  till  at  the  end  he  too  attained  to  heaven. 

A  similar  contest  of  two  minstrels  occurs  in  the  Kalerala  (Crawford's  translation, 
i.  30).  The  young  fiercely  drives  into  the  old,  who  says,  "  Thou  shouldst  give  me  all 
the  highway,  for  I  am  the  older."  "What  matters  that?"  says  the  other;  "let  the 
least  wise  give  place."  There  they  stand  and  each  sings  his  legends  by  way  of 
deciding  the  matter.  (Dr  Rouse.)  The  jataka  itself  is  a  variant  of  the  story  of  the 
kings  Narada  and  Sivi  in  Mbh.  in.  ch.  194. 


Once  upon  a  time,  when  Brahmadatta  was  king  of 
Benares,  there  was  a  village  of  carpenters  not  far  from 
the  city,  in  which  five  hundred  carpenters  lived.  They 
would  go  up  the  river  in  a  vessel,  and  enter  the  forest, 
where  they  would  shape  beams  and  planks  for  house- 
building, and  put  together  the  framework  of  one-storey 
or  two-storey  houses,  numbering  all  the  pieces  from  the 
mainpost  onwards ;  these  then  they  brought  down  to  the 
river  bank,  and  put  them  all  aboard ;  then  rowing  down 
stream  again,  they  would  build  houses  to  order  as  it  was 
required  of  them;  after  which,  when  they  received  their 
wage,  they  went  back  again  for  more  materials  for  the 
building,  and  in  this  way  they  made  their  livelihood. 

Once  it  befell  that  in  a  place  where  they  were  at  work 
in  shaping  timbers,  a  certain  Elephant  trod  upon  a  splinter 
of  acacia  wood,  which  pierced  his  foot,  and  caused  it  to 


swell  up  and  fester,  and  he  was  in  great  pain.  In  his 
agony,  he  caught  the  sound  of  these  carpenters  cutting 
wood.  "  There  are  some  carpenters  will  cure  me,"  thought 
he;  and  limping  on  three  feet,  he  presented  himself  before 
them,  and  lay  down  close  by.  The  carpenters,  noticing 
his  swollen  foot,  went  up  and  looked;  there  was  the 
splinter  sticking  in  it.  With  a  sharp  tool  they  made  in- 
cision about  the  splinter,  and  tying  a  string  to  it,  pulled 
it  right  out.  Then  they  lanced  the  gathering,  and  washed 
it  with  warm  water,  and  doctored  it  properly;  and  in  a 
very  short  time  the  wound  was  healed. 

Grateful  for  this  cure,  the  Elephant  thought:  "My  life 
has  been  saved  by  the  help  of  these  carpenters;  now  I 
must  make  myself  useful  to  them."  So  ever  after  that, 
he  used  to  pull  up  trees  for  them,  or  when  they  were 
chopping  he  would  roll  up  the  logs ;  or  bring  them  their 
adzes  and  any  tools  they  might  want,  holding  everything 
in  his  trunk  like  grim  death.  And  the  carpenters,  when 
it  was  time  to  feed  him,  used  to  bring  him  each  a  portion 
of  food,  so  that  he  had  five  hundred  portions  in  all. 

Now  this  Elephant  had  a  young  one,  white  all  over,  a 
magnificent  high-bred  creature.  The  Elephant  reflected 
that  he  was  now  old,  and  he  had  better  bring  his  young 
one  to  serve  the  carpenters,  and  himself  be  left  free  to  go. 
So  without  a  word  to  the  carpenters,  he  went  off  into  the 
wood,  and  brought  his  son  to  them,  saying,  "This  young- 
Elephant  is  a  son  of  mine.  You  saved  my  life,  and  I  give 
him  to  you  as  a  fee  for  your  leechcraft ;  from  henceforth 
he  shall  work  for  you."  So  he  explained  to  the  young 
Elephant  that  it  was  his  duty  to  do  the  work  which  he 
had  been  used  to  do  himself,  and  then  went  away  into  the 
forest,  leaving  him  with  the  carpenters.  So  after  that 
time  the  young  Elephant  did  all  their  work,  faithfully  and 


obediently;  and  they  fed  him,  as  they  had  fed  the  other, 
with  five  hundred  portions  for  a  meal. 

His  work  once  done,  the  Elephant  would  go  play  about 
in  the  river,  and  then  return  again.  The  carpenters' 
children  used  to  pull  him  by  the  trunk,  and  play  all  sorts 
of  pranks  with  him  in  water  and  out.  Now  noble  creatures, 
be  they  elephants,  horses,  or  men,  never  dung  or  stale  in 
the  water1.  So  this  Elephant  did  nothing  of  the  kind 
when  he  was  in  the  water,  but  waited  until  he  came  out 
upon  the  bank. 

One  day,  rain  had  fallen  up  river;  and  by  the  flood  a 
half-dry  cake  of  his  dung  was  carried  into  the  river.  This 
floated  down  to  the  Benares  landing  place,  where  it  stuck 
fast  in  a  bush.  Just  then  the  king's  elephant  keepers 
had  brought  down  five  hundred  elephants  to  give  them  a 
bath.  But  the  creatures  scented  this  soil  of  a  noble 
animal,  and  not  one  would  enter  the  water  ;  up  went  their 
tails,  and  off  they  all  ran.  The  keepers  told  this  to  the 
elephant  trainers;  who  replied,  "There  must  be  something 
in  the  water,  then."  So  orders  were  given  to  cleanse  the 
water  ;  and  there  in  the  bushes  this  lump  was  seen.  "  That's 
Avhat  the  matter  is  !  "  cried  the  men.  So  they  brought  a 
jar,  and  filled  it  with  water;  next  powdering  the  stuff  into 
it,  they  sprinkled  the  water  over  the  elephants,  whose 
bodies  then  became  sweet.  At  once  they  went  down  into 
the  river  and  bathed. 

When  the  trainers  made  their  report  to  the  king,  they 
advised  him  to  secure  the  Elephant  for  his  own  use  and 

The  king  accordingly  embarked  upon  a  raft,  and  rowed 

1   Compare  Ilesiod,  Oj>.  7">7:    prjSe  TTOT'  tv  Trpo^ofj  noTafj.a>v  aXade 
eVl   Kpqvauav   ovpeiv.      1  1  (It.    i.    138:    (the    Persians)   es  TTorafiov   8e   otrre   evovpiov&i  — 
(Dr  Rouse.) 


up  stream  until  he  arrived  at  the  place  where  the  carpenters 
had  settled.  The  young  Elephant,  hearing  the  sound  of 
drums  as  he  was  playing  in  the  water,  came  out  and  pre- 
sented himself  before  the  carpenters,  who  one  and  all  came 
forth  to  do  honour  to  the  king's  coming,  and  said  to  him, 
"  Sire,  if  woodwork  is  wanted,  what  need  to  come  here  ? 
Why  not  send  and  have  it  brought  to  you  ? " 

"  No,  no,  good  friends,"  the  king  answered,  "  'tis  not  for 
wood  that  I  come,  but  for  this  elephant  here." 

"He  is  yours,  Sire!"  -But  the  Elephant  refused  to 

"  What  do  you  want  me  to  do,  gossip  Elephant  ? "  asked 
the  king. 

"  Order  the  carpenters  to  be  paid  for  what  they  have 
spent  on  me,  Sire." 

"Willingly,  friend."  And  the  king  ordered  an  hundred 
thousand  pieces  of  money  to  be  laid  by  his  tail,  and  trunk, 
and  by  each  of  his  four  feet.  But  this  was  not  enough 
for  the  Elephant;  go  he  would  not.  So  to  each  of  the 
carpenters  was  given  a  pair  of  cloths,  and  to  each  of  their 
wives  robes  to  dress  in,  nor  did  he  omit  to  give  enough 
whereby  his  playmates  the  children  should  be  brought  up ; 
then  with  a  last  look  upon  the  carpenters,  and  the  women, 
and  the  children,  he  departed  in  company  with  the  king. 

To  his  capital  city  the  king  brought  him;  and  city  and 
stable  were  decked  out  with  all  magnificence.  He  led  the 
Elephant  round  the  city  in  solemn  procession,  and  thence 
into  his  stable,  which  was  fitted  up  with  splendour  and 
pomp.  There  he  solemnly  sprinkled  the  Elephant,  and 
appointed  him  for  his  own  riding;  like  a  comrade  he 
treated  him,  and  gave  him  the  half  of  his  kingdom,  taking 
as  much  care  of  him  as  he  did  of  himself.  After  the  coming 
of  this  Elephant,  the  king  won  supremacy  over  all  India, 


In  course  of  time  the  Bodhisatta  was  conceived  by  the 
Queen  Consort;  and  when  her  time  was  near  come  to  be 
delivered,  the  king  died.  Xow  if  the  Elephant  learnt 
news  of  the  king's  death,  he  was  sure  to  break  his  heart ; 
so  he  was  waited  upon  as  before,  and  not  a  word  said. 
But  the  next  neighbour,  the  king  of  Kosala,  heard  of  the 
king's  death.  "  Surely  the  land  is  at  my  mercy,"  thought 
he;  and  marched  with  a  mighty  host  to  the  city,  and 
beleaguered  it.  Straight  the  gates  were  closed,  and  a 
message  was  sent  to  the  king  of  Kosala:  "Our  Queen  is 
near  the  time  of  her  delivery;  and  the  astrologers  have 
declared  that  in  seven  days  she  shall  bear  a  son.  If  she 
bears  a  son,  we  will  not  yield  the  kingdom,  but  on  the 
seventh  day  we  will  give  you  battle.  For  so  long  we  pray 
you  wait ! "  And  to  this  the  king  agreed. 

In  seven  days  the  Queen  bore  a  son.  On  his  name-day 
they  called  him  Prince  Winheart,  because,  said  they,  he 
was  born  to  win  the  hearts  of  the  people. 

On  the  very  same  day  that  he  was  born,  the  townsfolk 
began  to  do  battle  with  the  king  of  Kosala.  But  as  they 
had  no  leader,  little  by  little  the  army  gave  way,  great 
though  it  was.  The  courtiers  told  this  news  to  the  Queen, 
adding,  "  Since  our  army  loses  ground  in  this  way,  we  fear 
defeat.  But  the  state  Elephant,  our  king's  bosom  friend, 
has  never  been  told  that  the  king  is  dead,  and  a  son  born 
to  him,  and  that  the  king  of  Kosala  is  here  to  give  us 
battle.  Shall  we  tell  him?" 

"  Yes,  do  so,"  said  the  Queen.  So  she  dressed  up  her 
son,  and  laid  him  in  a  fine  linen  cloth;  after  which  she 
with  all  the  court  came  down  from  the  palace  and  entered 
the  Elephant's  stable.  There  she  laid  the  babe  at  the 
Elephant's  feet,  saying,  "Master,  your  comrade  is  dead, 
but  we  feared  to  tell  it  you  lest  you  might  break  your 


heart.  This  is  your  comrade's  son;  the  king  of  Kosala 
has  run  a  leaguer  about  the  city,  and  is  making  war  upon 
your  son ;  the  army  is  losing  ground ;  either  kill  your  son 
yourself,  or  else  win  the  kingdom  back  for  him  ! " 

At  once  the  Elephant  stroked  the  child  with  his  trunk, 
and  lifted  him  upon  his  own  head ;  then  making  moan 
and  lamentation  he  took  him  down  and  laid  him  in  his 
mother's  arms,  and  with  the  words — "I  will  master  the 
king  of  Kosala ! "  he  went  forth  hastily. 

Then  the  courtiers  put  his  armour  and  caparison 
upon  him,  and  unlocked  the  city  gate,  and  escorted  him 
thither.  The  Elephant  emerging  trumpeted,  and  frightened 
all  the  host  so  that  they  ran  away,  and  broke  up  the 
camp ;  then  seizing  the  king  of  Kosala  by  his  topknot,  he 
carried  him  to  the  young  prince,  at  whose  feet  he  let  him 
fall.  Some  rose  to  kill  him,  but  them  the  Elephant  stayed ; 
and  he  let  the  captive  king  go  with  this  advice:  "Be 
careful  for  the  future,  and  be  not  presumptuous  by  reason 
that  our  Prince  is  young." 

After  that,  the  power  over  all  India  fell  into  the  Bod- 
hisatta's  own  hand,  and  not  a  foe  was  able  to  rise  up 
against  him.  The  Bodhisatta  was  consecrated  at  the  age 
of  seven  years,  as  King  Winheart ;  just  was  his  reign,  and 
when  he  came  to  life's  end  he  attained  to  heaven. 

The  story  of  Androcles  or  Androclus  and  the  lion  is  given  by  Aulus  Gellius,  v.  14, 
on  the  authority  of  Apion,  who  says  that  he  saw  it  in  Rome  with  his  own  eyes, 
cf.  Aelian,  De  An.  Nat.  vn.  48.  Seneca,  De  Ben.  n.  19,  tells  a  similar  story  of  a  lion 
seen  by  himself  in  the  amphitheatre,  which  recognised  its  former  keeper  and  pro- 
tected him  from  the  attacks  of  the  other  animals.  In  Gesta  Rom.  104  (96)  the 
story  is  of  a  soldier,  who  finds  the  lion  while  hunting,  and  is  afterwards  condemned 
by  the  king  to  be  devoured. 


Once  upon  a  time,  while  Brahmadatta  was  king  of 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  of  a  brahmin  family. 
On  growing  up  he  left  his  worldly  home  and  took  to  the 
religious  life,  and  in  time  became  the  leader  of  a  company 
of  five  hundred  anchorites,  who  all  lived  together  in  the 
region  of  Himalaya. 

Amongst  these  anchorites  was  a  headstrong  and  un- 
teachable  person  named  Indasamanagotta.  He  had  a 
pet  elephant.  The  Bodhisatta  sent  for  him  when  he  found 
this  out,  and  asked  if  he  really  did  keep  a  young  elephant  ? 
Yes,  the  man  said,  he  had  an  elephant  which  had  lost  its 
dam.  "  Well,"  the  Bodhisatta  said,  "  when  elephants  grow 
up  they  kill  even  those  who  foster  them ;  so  you  had 
better  not  keep  it  any  longer.1'  "  But  I  can't  live  without 
him,  my  Teacher!"  was  the  reply.  "Oh,  well,"  said  the 
Bodhisatta,  "you'll  live  to  repent  it." 

Howbeit  he  still  reared  the  creature,  and  by  and  by 
it  grew  to  an  immense  size. 

It  happened  once  that  the  anchorites  had  all  gone  far 
afield  to  gather  roots  and  fruits  in  the  forest,  and  they 
were  absent  for  several  days.  At  the  first  breath  of  the 
south  wind  this  elephant  fell  in  a  frenzy.  "Destruction 
to  this  hut ! "  thought  he,  "  I'll  smash  the  water- jar !  I'll 
overturn  the  stone  bench  !  I'll  tear  up  the  pallet !  I'll  kill 
the  hermit,  and  then  off  I'll  go ! "  So  he  sped  into  the 
jungle,  and  waited  watching  for  their  return. 

His  master  came  first,  laden  with  food  for  his  pet.  As 
soon  as  he  saw  him,  he  hastened  up,  thinking  all  was  well1. 
Out  rushed  the  elephant  from  the  thicket,  and  seizing 

1  Or,  "  with  his  usual  greeting,  or  signal." 

THE   MONGOOSE  AND   THE   SNAKE        141 

him  in  his  trunk,  dashed  him  to  the  ground,  then  with  a 
blow  on  the  head  crushed  the  life  out  of  him ;  and  madly 
trumpeting,  he  scampered  into  the  forest. 

The  other  anchorites  brought  this  news  to  the  Bod- 
hisatta.  Said  he,  "  We  should  have  no  dealings  with  the 
bad  " ;  and  then  he  repeated  these  two  verses : 

Friendship  with  evil  let  the  good  eschew, 
The  good,  who  know  what  duty  bids  them  do: 
They  will  work  mischief,  l)e  it  soon  or  late, 
Even  as  the  elephant  his  master  slew. 

But  if  a  kindred  spirit  thou  shalt  see, 
In  virtue,  wisdom,  learning  like  to  thee, 

Choose  such  an  one  to  be  thy  own  true  friend; 
Good  friends  and  blessing  go  in  company. 

In  this  way  the  Bodhisatta  shewed  his  band  of  anchorites 
that  it  is  well  to  be  docile  and  not  obstinate.  Then  he 
performed  Indasamanagotta's  obsequies,  and  cultivating 
the  Excellences,  came  at  last  into  Brahma's  heaven. 

In  Jat.  43  an  ascetic  keeps  a  tame  viper  in  a  bamboo  tube.  It  is  neglected  for 
several  days,  and  when  taken  out  bites  and  kills  him.  Cf.  Aesop,  Countryman  and 
frozen  Snake,  Halm  97,  Babr.  167.  Hausrath  compares  P.  (B.)  in.  5,  The  Gold- 
giving  Snake.  See  on  Jat.  136,  p.  118. 


Once  on  a  time,  when  Brahmadatta  was  king  of  Benares, 
the  Bodhisatta  was  born  in  a  certain  village  as  one  of  a 
brahmin  family.  When  he  came  of  age,  he  was  educated 
at  Takkasila;  then,  renouncing  the  world  he  became  a 
recluse,  cultivated  the  Faculties  and  the  Attainments, 
and  dwelt  in  the  region  of  Himalaya,  living  upon  wild 
roots  and  fruits  which  he  picked  up  in  his  goings  to  and 

At  the  end  of  his  cloistered  walk  lived  a  Mongoose  in 


an  ant-heap;  and  not  far  off,  a  Snake  lived  in  a  hollow 
tree.  These  two,  Snake  and  Mongoose,  were  perpetually 
quarrelling.  The  Bodhisatta  preached  to  them  the  misery 
of  quarrels  and  the  blessing  of  cultivating  friendship,  and 
reconciled  the  two  together,  saying,  "You  ought  to  cease 
your  quarrelling  and  live  together  at  one." 

When  the  Serpent  was  abroad,  the  Mongoose  at  the 
end  of  the  walk  lay  with  his  head  out  of  the  hole  in  his 
ant-hill,  and  his  mouth  open,  and  thus  fell  asleep,  heavily 
drawing  his  breath  in  and  out.  The  Bodhisatta  saw  him 
sleeping  there,  and  asking  him,  "  Why,  what  are  you  afraid 
of?"  repeated  the  first  stanza: 

Creature1,  your  egg-born  enemy  a  faithful  friend  is  made: 
Why  sleep  you  there  with  teeth  all  bare  ?  of  what  are  you  afraid  ? 

"  Father,"  said  the  Mongoose,  "  never  despise  a  former 
enemy,  but  always  suspect  him " :  and  he  repeated  the 
second  stanza: 

Never  despise  an  enemy  nor  ever  trust  a  friend: 

A  fear  that  springs  from  uufeared  things  uproots  and  makes  an  end. 

"Fear  not,"  replied  the  Bodhisatta.  "I  have  persuaded 
the  Snake  to  do  you  no  harm;  distrust  him  no  more." 
With  this  advice,  he  proceeded  to  cultivate  the  Four 
Excellences,  and  became  destined  for  Brahma's  heaven. 
And  the  others  too  passed  away  to  fare  hereafter  ac- 
cording to  their  deeds. 

The  doctrine  of  the  mongoose  is  the  same  as  that  taught  in  The  Crows  and  the 
Owls,  the  frame  story  of  P.  m.  Cf.  Jat.  141,  p.  121.  The  jataka  appears  to  be  a 
folktale  modified  to  counteract  such  morality. 

1  Lit.  "O  viviparous  one." 


Once  upon  a  time,  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  as  a  young  Lion,  and 
was  the  king  of  many  lions.  With  a  suite  of  lions  he 
dwelt  in  Silver  Cave.  Near  by  was  a  Jackal,  living  in 
another  cave. 

One  day,  after  a  shower  of  rain,  all  the  Lions  were 
together  at  the  entrance  of  their  leader's  cave,  roaring 
loudly  and  gambolling  about  as  lions  use.  As  they  were 
thus  roaring  and  playing,  the  Jackal  too  lifted  up  his 
voice.  "  Here's  this  Jackal,  giving  tongue  along  with  us ! " 
said  the  Lions ;  they  felt  ashamed,  and  were  silent.  When 
they  all  fell  silent,  the  Bodhisatta's  cub  asked  him  this 
question.  "  Father,  all  these  Lions  that  were  roaring  and 
playing  about  have  fallen  silent  for  very  shame  on  hearing 
yon  creature.  What  creature  is  it  that  betrays  itself  thus 
by  its  voice  ? "  and  he  repeated  the  first  stanza : 

Who  is  it  with  a  mighty  cry  makes  Daddara  resound? 

Who  is  it,  Lord  of  Beasts  ?    and  why  has  he  no  welcome  found  ? 

At  his  son's  words  the  old  Lion  repeated  the  second 
stanza : 

The  Jackal,  of  all  beasts  most  vile,  'tis  he  that  makes  that  sound: 
The  Lions  loathe  his  baseness,  while  they  sit  in  silence  round. 

In  P.  (B.)  iv.  4  a  lion  brings  home  a  young  jackal,  which  is  brought  up  with  two 
young  lions,  and  through  his  cowardice  makes  them  lose  their  courage.  In  Jat.  188 
a  cub,  a  cross  between  a  lion  and  a  jackal,  is  like  a  lion  in  form,  but  is  betrayed  by 
his  howl.  Cf.  Cullav.  i.  18.  3  (S.B.E.  xvii.  362),  the  offspring  of  a  hen  and  crow  caws 
when  it  tries  to  crow  and  vice  cersa. 


Once  upon  a  time,  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  he  had  a  Councillor  who  was  his  right-hand  man 
and  gave  him  advice  in  things  spiritual  and  temporal. 
There  was  a  rising  on  the  frontier,  and  the  troops  there 
stationed  sent  the  king  a  letter.  The  king  started,  rainy 
season  though  it  was,  and  formed  a  camp  in  his  park. 
The  Bodhisatta  stood  before  the  king.  At  that  moment 
the  people  had  steamed  some  peas  for  the  horses,  and 
poured  them  out  into  a  trough.  One  of  the  monkeys  that 
lived  in  the  park  jumped  down  from  a  tree,  filled  his 
mouth  and  hands  with  the  peas,  then  up  again,  and  sitting 
down  in  the  tree  he  began  to  eat.  As  he  ate,  one  pea  fell 
from  his  hand  upon  the  ground.  Down  dropped  at  once 
all  the  peas  from  his  hands  and  mouth,  and  down  from 
the  tree  he  came,  to  hunt  for  the  lost  pea.  But  that  pea 
he  could  not  find;  so  he  climbed  up  his  tree  again,  and 
sat  still,  very  glum,  looking  like  some  one  who  had  lost  a 
thousand  in  some  lawsuit. 

The  king  observed  how  the  monkey  had  done,  and 
pointed  it  out  to  the  Bodhisatta.  "  Friend,  what  do  you 
think  of  that  ? "  he  asked.  To  which  the  Bodhisatta  made 
answer:  King,  this  is  what  fools  of  little  wit  are  wont  to 
do ;  they  spend  a  pound  to  win  a  penny  " ;  and  he  went 
on  to  repeat  the  first  stanza: 

A  foolish  monkey,  living-  in  the  trees, 
0  king,  when  both  his  hands  were  full  of  peas, 
Has  thrown  them  all  away  to  look  for  one: 
There  is  no  wisdom,  Sire,  in  such  as  these. 

Then  the  Bodhisatta  approached  the  king,  and  ad- 
dressing him  again,  repeated  the  second  stanza: 

Such  are  we,  0  mighty  monarch,  such  all  those  that  greedy  be; 
Losing  much  to  gain  a  little,  like  the  monkey  and  the  pea. 


On  hearing  this  address  the  king  turned  and  went 
straight  back  to  Benares.  And  the  outlaws  hearing  that 
the  king  had  set  forth  from  his  capital  to  make  mincemeat 
of  his  enemies,  hurried  away  from  the  borders. 

K.  D.  (Syr.)  rx.  2,  (Arab.)  xiv.,  where  it  is  inserted  in  the  story  of  Bilad  (variant 
of  Jat.  77,  p.  78). 


Once  upon  a  time,  when  Brahmadatta  was  king  of 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  conceived  as  the  son  of  the 
Queen  Consort.  She  was  safely  delivered ;  and  on  his 
name-day  they  gave  him  the  name  of  Asadisa-Kumara, 
Prince  Peerless.  About  the  time  he  was  able  to  walk, 
the  Queen  conceived  one  who  was  also  to  be  a  good  being. 
She  was  safely  delivered,  and  on  the  name-day  they  called 
the  babe  Brahmadatta-Kumara,  or  Prince  Heaven-sent. 

When  Prince  Peerless  was  sixteen,  he  went  to  Tak- 
kasila  for  his  education.  There  at  the  feet  of  a  world- 
famed  teacher  he  learnt  the  Three  Vedas  and  the  Eighteen 
Accomplishments ;  in  the  science  of  archery  he  was  peer- 
less; then  he  returned  to  Benares. 

When  the  king  was  on  his  deathbed  he  commanded 
that  Prince  Peerless  should  be  king  in  his  stead,  and 
Prince  Brahmadatta  the  viceroy.  Then  he  died;  after 
which  the  kingship  was  offered  to  Peerless,  who  refused, 
saying  that  he  cared  not  for  it.  So  they  consecrated 
Brahmadatta  to  be  king  by  sprinkling  him.  Peerless 
cared  nothing  for  glory,  and  wanted  nothing. 

While  the  younger  brother  ruled,  Peerless  lived  in  all 
royal  state.  The  slaves  came  and  slandered  him  to  his 
brother  ;  "  Prince  Peerless  wants  to  be  king ! "  said  they. 

F.  &T.  10 


Brahmadatta  believed  them,  and  allowed  himself  to  be 
deceived ;  he  sent  some  men  to  take  Peerless  prisoner. 

One  of  Prince  Peerless'  attendants  told  him  what  was 
afoot.  He  wraxed  angry  with  his  brother,  and  went  away 
into  another  country.  When  he  arrived  there,  he  sent  in 


word  to  the  king-  that  an  archer  was  come,  and  awaited 
him.  "What  wages  does  he  ask?"  the  king  enquired. 
"A  hundred  thousand  a  year."  "Good,"  said  the  king; 
"let  him  enter." 

Peerless  came  into  the  presence,  and  stood  waiting. 
"Are  you  the  archer?"  asked  the  king.  "Yes,  Sire."  "Very 
well,  I  take  you  into  my  service."  After  that  Peerless 
remained  in  the  service  of  this  king.  But  the  old  archers 
were  annoyed  at  the  wage  which  was  given  him ;  "  Too 
much,"  they  grumbled. 

One  day  it  so  happened  that  the  king  went  out  into 
his  park.  There,  at  foot  of  a  mango  tree,  where  a  screen 
had  been  put  up  before  a  certain  stone  seat  of  ceremony, 
he  reclined  upon  a  magnificent  couch.  He  happened  to 
look  up,  and  there  right  at  the  treetop  he  saw  a  cluster 
of  mango  fruit.  "  It  is  too  high  to  climb  for,"  thought  he ; 
so  summoning  his  archers,  he  asked  them  whether  they 
could  cut  oft*  yon  cluster  with  an  arrow,  and  bring  it  down 
for  him.  "  Oh,"  said  they,  "  that  is  not  much  for  us  to  do. 
But  your  majesty  has  seen  our  skill  often  enough.  The 
newcomer  is  so  much  better  paid  than  we,  that  perhaps 
you  might  make  him  bring  down  the  fruit." 

Then  the  king  sent  for  Peerless,  and  asked  him  if  he 
could  do  it.  "Oh  yes,  your  3Iajesty,  if  I  may  choose  my 
position."  "What  position  do  you  want?"  "The  place 
where  your  couch  stands."  The  king  had  the  couch  re- 
moved, and  gave  place. 

Peerless  had  no  bow  in  his  hand;  he  used  to  carry 


it  underneath  his  body-cloth;  so  he  must  needs  have  a 
screen.  The  king  ordered  a  screen  to  be  brought  and 
spread  for  him,  and  our  archer  went  in.  He  doffed  the 
white  cloth  which  he  wore  over  all,  and  put  on  a  red  cloth 
next  his  skin;  then  he  fastened  his  girdle,  and  donned 
a  red  waistcloth.  From  a  bag  he  took  out  a  sword  in 
pieces,  which  he  put  together  and  girt  on  his  left  side. 
Next  he  put  on  a  mailcoat  of  gold,  fastened  his  bow-case 
over  his  back,  and  took  out  his  great  ramshorn  bow,  made 
in  several  pieces,  which  he  fitted  together,  fixed  the  bow- 
string, red  as  coral ;  put  a  turban  upon  his  head ;  twirling 
the  arrow  with  his  nails,  he  threw  open  the  screen  and 
came  out,  looking  like  a  Naga  prince  just  emerging 
fi'om  the  riven  ground.  He  went  to  the  place  of  shooting, 
arrow  set  to  bow,  and  then  put  this  question  to  the  king. 
"Your  Majesty,"  said  he,  "am  I  to  bring  this  fruit  down 
with  an  upward  shot,  or  by  dropping  the  arrow  upon  it? ' 

"My  son,"  said  the  king,  "I  have  often  seen  a  mark 
brought  down  by  the  upward  shot,  but  never  one  taken 
in  the  fall.  You  had  better  make  the  shaft  fall  on  it." 

"Your  Majesty,"  said  the  archer,  "this  arrow  will  fly 
high.  Up  to  the  heaven  of  the  Four  Great  Kings  it  will 
fly,  and  then  return  of  itself.  You  must  please  be  patient 
till  it  returns."  The  king  promised.  Then  the  archer 
said  again,  "Your  Majesty,  this  arrow  in  its  upshot  will 
pierce  the  stalk  exactly  in  the  middle ;  and  when  it  comes 
down,  it  will  not  swerve  a  hairsbreadth  either  way,  but 
hit  the  same  spot  to  a  nicety,  and  bring  down  the  cluster 
with  it."  Then  he  sped  the  arrow  forth  swiftly.  As  the 
arrow  went  up  it  pierced  the  exact  centre  of  the  mango 
stalk.  By  the  time  the  archer  knew  his  arrow  had 
reached  the  place  of  the  Four  Great  Kings,  he  let  fly 
another  arrow  with  greater  speed  than  the  first.  This 



struck  the  feather  of  the  first  arrow,  and  turned  it  back ; 
then  itself  went  up  as  far  as  the  heaven  of  the  Thirty-three 
gods.  There  the  deities  caught  and  kept  it. 

The  sound  of  the  falling  arrow  as  it  cleft  the  air  was 
as  the  sound  of  a  thunderbolt.  "What  is  that  noise?" 
asked  every  man.  "  That  is  the  arrow  falling,"  our  archer 
replied.  The  bystanders  were  all  frightened  to  death,  for 
fear  the  arrow  should  fall  on  them ;  but  Peerless  com- 
forted them.  "  Fear  nothing,"  said  he,  "  and  I  will  see 
that  it  does  not  fall  on  the  earth."  Down  came  the  arrow, 
not  a  hairbreadth  out  either  way,  but  neatly  cut  through 
the  stalk  of  the  mango  cluster.  The  archer  caught  the 
arrow  in  one  hand  and  the  fruit  in  the  other,  so  that  they 
should  not  fall  upon  the  ground.  "  We  never  saw  such  a 
thing  before  ! "  cried  the  onlookers,  at  this  marvel.  How 
they  praised  the  great  man !  how  they  cheered  and  clapped 
and  snapped  their  fingers,  thousands  of  kerchiefs  waving 
in  the  air !  In  their  joy  and  delight  the  courtiers  gave 
presents  to  Peerless  amounting  to  ten  millions  of  money. 
And  the  king  too  showered  gifts  and  honours  upon  him 
like  rain. 

While  the  Bodhisatta  was  receiving  such  glory  and 
honour  at  the  hands  of  this  king,  seven  kings,  who  knew 
that  there  was  no  Prince  Peerless  in  Benares,  drew  a 
leaguer  around  the  city,  and  summoned  its  king  to  fight 
or  yield.  The  king  was  frightened  out  of  his  life.  "  Where 
is  my  brother  ? "  he  asked.  "  He  is  in  the  service  of  a 
neighbouring  king,"  was  the  reply.  "  If  my  dear  brother 
does  not  come,"  said  he,  "  I  am  a  dead  man.  Go,  fall  at 
his  feet  in  my  name,  appease  him,  bring  him  hither!" 
His  messengers  came  and  did  their  errand.  Peerless  took 
leave  of  his  master,  and  returned  to  Benares.  He  com- 
forted his  brother  and  bade  him  fear  nothing;  then 


scratched1  a  message  upon  an  arrow  to  this  effect:  "I, 
Prince  Peerless,  am  returned.  I  mean  to  kill  you  all  with 
one  arrow  which  I  will  shoot  at  you.  Let  those  who  care 
for  life  make  their  escape."  This  he  shot  so  that  it  fell 
upon  the  very  middle  of  a  golden  dish,  from  which  the 
seven  kings  were  eating  together.  When  they  read  the 
writing  they  all  fled,  half-dead  Avith  fright. 

Thus  did  our  Prince  put  to  flight  seven  kings,  without 
shedding  even  so  much  blood  as  a  little  fly  might  drink ; 
then,  looking  upon  his  younger  brother,  he  renounced  his 
lusts,  and  forsook  the  world,  cultivated  the  Faculties  and 
the  Attainments,  and  at  his  life's  end  came  to  Brahma's 

Hardy,  Manual  of  Buddhism,  114.  •  The  latter  part  of  the  story  is  given  very 
briefly  in  Mahdvastu  2.  82-3,  Caraksepana  Jdtaka.  It  is  figured  on  the  Bharhut 
Stupa,  see  Cunningham,  p.  70,  and  plate  xxvu.  13;  and  possibly  on  the  Sanchi  Tope, 
see  Fergusson,  Tree  and  Serpent  Worship,  pi.  xxvi.  p.  181.  (Dr  Rouse.) 


Once  upon  a  time,  when  Brahmadatta  wras  reigning  in 
Benares,  four  brahmins,  brothers,  of  the  land  of  Kasi,  left 
the  world  and  became  hermits;  they  built  themselves  four 
huts  in  a  row  in  the  highlands  of  the  Himalaya,  and  there 
they  lived. 

The  eldest  brother  died,  and  was  born  as  Sakka. 
Knowing  who  he  had  been,  he  used  to  visit  the  others 
every  seven  or  eight  days,  and  lend  them  a  helping  hand. 

One  day,  he  visited  the  eldest  of  the  anchorites,  and 
after  the  usual  greeting,  took  his  seat  to  one  side.  "  Well, 
Sir,  how  can  I  serve  you  ? "  he  enquired.  The  hermit,  who 
wras  suffering  from  jaundice,  replied,  "Fire  is  what  I 

1  In  the  Mahdvastu  it  is  wrapt  round  it  (2.  p.  82.  14,  parivethitva);  so  in  Hardy. 


want.''  Sakka  gave  him  a  razor-axe.  (A  razor-axe  is  so 
called  because  it  serves  as  razor  or  as  axe  according  as 
you  fit  it  into  the  handle.)  "Why;'  said  the  hermit,  "who 
is  there  to  get  me  firewood  with  this?"  "If  you  want  a 
fire,  Sir,"  replied  Sakka,  "all  you  have  to  do  is  to  strike 
your  hand  upon  the  axe  and  say — '  Fetch  wood  and  make 
a  fire ! '  The  axe  will  fetch  the  wood  and  make  you  the 

After  giving  him  this  razor-axe  he  next  visited  the 
second  brother,  and  asked  him  the  same  question — "  How 
can  I  serve  you,  Sir?"  Now  there  was  an  elephant  track 
by  his  hut,  and  the  creatures  annoyed  him.  So  he  told 
Sakka  that  he  was  annoyed  by  elephants,  and  wanted 
them  to  be  driven  away.  Sakka  gave  him  a  drum.  "If 
you  beat  upon  this  side,  Sir,"  he  explained,  "  your  enemies 
will  run  away;  but  if  you  strike  the  other,  they  will  become 
your  firm  friends,  and  will  encompass  you  with  an  army 
in  fourfold  array."  Then  he  handed  him  the  drum. 


Lastly  he  made  a  visit  to  the  youngest,  and  asked  as 
before  how  he  could  serve  him.  He  too  had  jaundice, 
and  what  he  said  was — "Please  give  me  some  curds." 
Sakka  gave  him  a  milk-bowl,  with  these  words:  "Turn 
this  over  if  you  want  anything,  and  a  great  river  will  pour 
out  of  it,  and  will  flood  the  whole  place,  and  it  will  be 
able  even  to  win  a  kingdom  for  you."  With  these  words 
he  departed. 

After  this  the  axe  used  to  make  fire  for  the  eldest 
brother,  the  second  used  to  beat  upon  one  side  of  his 
drum  and  drive  the  elephants  away,  and  the  youngest  had 
his  curds  to  eat. 

About  this  time  a  wild  boar,  that  lived  in  a  ruined 
village,  lit  upon  a  gem  possessed  of  magic  power.  Picking 
up  the  gem  in  his  mouth,  he  rose  in  the  air  by  its  magic. 


From  afar  he  could  see  an  isle  in  mid-ocean,  and  there 
he  resolved  to  live.  So  descending  he  chose  a  pleasant 
spot  beneath  a  fig  tree,  and  there  he  made  his  abode. 

One  day  he  fell  asleep  under  the  tree,  with  the  jewel 
lying  in  front  of  him.  Now  a  certain  man  from  the  Kasi 
country,  who  had  been  turned  out  of  doors  by  his  parents 
as  a  ne'er-do-well,  had  made  his  way  to  a  seaport,  where 
he  embarked  on  shipboard  as  a  sailors'  drudge.  In  mid- 
sea  the  ship  was  wrecked,  and  he  floated  upon  a  plank 
to  this  island.  As  he  wandered  in  search  of  fruit,  he  espied 
our  boar  fast  asleep.  Quietly  he  crept  up,  seized  the 
gem,  and  found  himself  by  magic  rising  through  the  air ! 
He  alighted  on  the  fig  tree,  and  pondered.  "  The 
magic  of  this  gem,"  thought  he,  "has  taught  yon  boar 
to  be  a  sky-walker;  that's  how  he  got  here,  I  suppose. 
"Well!  I  must  kill  him  and  make  a  meal  of  him  first; 
and  then  I'll  be  off."  So  he  snapt  off  a  twig,  dropping  it 
upon  the  boar's  head.  The  boar  woke  up,  and  seeing  no 
gem,  ran  trembling  up  and  down.  The  man  up  in  the 
tree  laughed.  The  boar  looked  up,  and  seeing  him  ran 
his  head  against  the  tree,  and  killed  himself. 

The  man  came  down,  lit  a  fire,  cooked  the  boar  and 
made  a  meal.  Then  he  rose  up  in  the  sky,  and  set  out 
.on  his  journey. 

As  he  passed  over  the  Himalaya,  he  saw  the  hermits' 
settlement.  So  he  descended,  and  spent  two  or  three 
days  in  the  eldest  brother's  hut,  entertaining  and  enter- 
tained, and  he  found  out  the  virtue  of  the  axe.  He  made 
up  his  mind  to  get  it  for  himself.  So  he  shewed  our 
hermit  the  virtue  of  his  gem,  and  offered  to  exchange  it 
for  the  axe.  The  hermit  longed  to  be  able  to  pass  through 
mid-air1,  and  struck  the  bargain.  The  man  took  the  axe, 

1  This  was  one  of  the  supernatural  powers  much  coveted  by  Buddhists. 


and  departed ;  but  before  he  had  gone  very  far,  he  struck 
upon  it  and  said — "Axe!  smash  that  hermit's  skull  and 
bring  the  gem  to  me!"  Off  flew  the  axe,  clove  the  hermit's 
skull,  and  brought  the  gem  back. 

Then  the  man  hid  the  axe  away,  and  paid  a  visit  to 
the  second  brother.  With  him  the  visitor  stayed  a  few 
days,  and  soon  discovered  the  power  of  his  drum.  Then 
he  exchanged  his  gem  for  the  drum,  as  before,  and  as 
before  made  the  axe  cleave  the  owner's  skull.  After  this 
he  went  on  to  the  youngest  of  the  three  hermits,  found 
out  the  power  of  the  milk-bowl,  gave  his  jewel  in  exchange 
for  it,  and  as  before  sent  his  axe  to  cleave  the  man's  skull. 
Thus  he  was  now  owner  of  jewel,  axe,  drum,  and  milk- 
bowl,  all  four. 

He  now  rose  up  and  passed  through  the  air.  Stopping 
hard  by  Benares,  he  wrote  a  letter  which  he  sent  by  a 
messenger's  hands,  that  the  king  must  either  fight  him  or 
yield.  On  receipt  of  this  message  the  king  sallied  forth 
to  "seize  the  scoundrel."  But  he  beat  on  one  side  of 
his  drum,  and  was  promptly  surrounded  by  an  army  in 
fourfold  array.  When  he  saw  that  the  king  had  deployed 
his  forces,  he  then  overturned  the  milk-bowl,  and  a  great 
river  poured  forth ;  multitudes  were  drowned  in  the  river 
of  curds.  Next  he  struck  upon  his  axe.  "  Fetch  me  the 
king's  head!"  cried  he;  away  went  the  axe,  and  came 
back  and  dropt  the  head  at  his  feet.  Not  a  man  could 
raise  hand  against  him. 

So  encompassed  by  a  mighty  host,  he  entered  the  city, 
and  caused  himself  to  be  anointed  king  under  the  title  of 
king  Dadhi-vahana,  or  Carried-on-the-Curds,  and  ruled 

One  day,  as  the  king  was  amusing  himself  by  casting 
a  net  into  the  river,  he  caught  a  mango  fruit,  fit  for  the 


gods,  which  had  floated  down  from  Lake  Kannamunda. 
When  the  net  was  hauled  out,  the  mango  was  found,  and 
shown  to  the  king.  It  was  a  huge  fruit,  as  big  as  a  basin, 
round,  and  golden  in  colour.  The  king  asked  what  the 
fruit  was :  Mango,  said  the  foresters.  He  ate  it,  and  had 
the  stone  planted  in  his  park,  and  watered  with  milk-water. 

The  tree  sprouted  up,  and  in  three  years  it  bore  fruit. 
Great  was  the  worship  paid  to  this  tree;  milk-water  was 
poured  about  it;  perfumed  garlands  with  five  sprays1 
were  hung  upon  it;  wreaths  were  festooned  about  it;  a 
lamp  was  kept  burning,  and  fed  with  scented  oil ;  and  all 
round  it  was  a  screen  of  cloth.  The  fruit  was  sweet,  and 
had  the  colour  of  fine  gold.  King  Dadhi-vahana,  before 
sending  presents  of  these  mangoes  to  other  kings,  used  to 
prick  with  a  thorn  that  place  in  the  stone  where  the 
sprout  would  come  from,  for  fear  of  their  growing  the  like 
by  planting  it.  When  they  ate  the  fruit,  they  used  to 
plant  the  stone;  but  they  could  not  get  it  to  take  root. 
They  enquired  the  reason,  and  learnt  how  the  matter  was. 

One  king  asked  his  gardener  whether  he  could  spoil 
the  flavour  of  this  fruit,  and  turn  it  bitter  on  the  tree. 
Yes,  the  man  said  he  could;  so  his  king  gave  him  a 
thousand  pieces  and  sent  him  on  his  errand. 

So  soon  as  he  had  arrived  in  Benares,  the  man  sent  a 
message  to  the  king  that  a  gardener  was  come.  The  king 
admitted  him  to  the  presence.  After  the  man  had  saluted 
him,  the  king  asked,  "  You  are  a  gardener  ? "  "  Yes,  Sire," 

1  The  meaning  of  gandhapancangulikarh  is  uncertain.  Perhaps  a  garland  in 
which  sprouts  or  twigs  were  arranged  radiating  like  the  fingers  of  a  hand.  See 
Morris  in  JPTS.,  1884,  p.  84.  The  spread  hand  is  in  many  places  a  symbol  used  to 
avert  the  evil  eye.  In  some  villages  of  India  it  is  marked  on  the  house  walls  (North 
Ind.  N.  and  Q.,  i.  42);  it  is  carved  on  Phoenician  tombstones  (see  those  in  the 
Biblioth&que  Nationale  in  Paris);  and  I  have  seen  it  in  all  parts  of  Syria,  on  the 
houses  of  Jews,  Chi-istians,  and  Moslems.  (Dr  Rouse.) 


said  the  man,  and  began  to  sound  his  own  praises.  "  Very 
well,"  said  the  king,  "you  may  go  and  assist  my  park- 
keeper."  So  after  that  these  used  both  to  look  after  the 
royal  grounds. 

The  new  comer  managed  to  make  the  park  look  more 
beautiful  by  forcing  flowers  and  fruit  out  of  their  season. 
This  pleased  the  king,  so  that  he  dismissed  the  former 
keeper  and  gave  the  park  into  sole  charge  of  the  new 
one.  No  sooner  had  this  man  got  the  park  into  his 
own  hands  than  he  planted  nimbs  and  creepers  about 
the  choice  mango  tree.  By  and  by  the  nimbs  sprouted 
up.  Above  and  below,  root  with  root,  and  branch  with 
branch,  these  were  all  entangled  with  the  mango  tree. 
Thus  this  tree,  with  its  sweet  fruit,  grew  bitter  as  the 
bitter-leaved  nimb  by  the  company  of  this  noxious  and 
sour  plant.  As  soon  as  the  gardener  knew  that  the  fruit 
had  gone  bitter,  he  took  to  his  heels. 

King  Dadhi-vahana  went  a-walking  in  his  pleasaunce, 
and  took  a  bite  of  the  mango  fruit.  The  juice  in  his 
mouth  tasted  like  a  nasty  nimb ;  swallow  it  he  could  not, 
so  he  coughed  and  spat  it  out.  Now  at  that  time  the 
Bodhisatta  was  his  temporal  and  spiritual  counsellor. 
The  king  turned  to  him.  "  Wise  Sir,  this  tree  is  as  care- 
fully cared  for  as  ever,  and  yet  its  fruit  has  gone  bitter. 
What's  the  meaning  of  it  ? "  and  asking  this  question,  he 
repeated  the  first  stanza : 

Sweet  was  once  the  mango's  savour,  sweet  its  scent,  its  colour  gold : 
What  has  caused  this  bitter  flavour?    for  we  tend  it  as  of  old. 

The  Bodhisatta  explained  the  reason  in  the  second 
stanza : 

Round  about  the  trunk  entwining,  branch  with  branch,  and  root  with 


See  the  bitter  creeper  climbing ;  that  is  what  has  spoilt  your  fruit : 
So  you  see  bad  company  will  make  the  better  follow  suit. 

THE  ASS   IN   THE   LION'S   SKIN  155 

On  hearing  this  the  Bodhisatta  caused  all  the  nimbs 
and  creepers  to  be  removed,  and  their  roots  pulled  up; 
the  noxious  soil  was  all  taken  away,  and  sweet  earth  put 
in  its  place;  and  the  tree  was  carefully  fed  with  sweet 
water,  milk-water,  scented  water.  Then  by  absorbing  all 
this  sweetness  its  fruit  grew  sweet  again.  The  king  put 
his  former  gardener  in  charge  of  the  park,  and  after  his 
life  was  done  passed  away  to  fare  according  to  his  deserts. 

This  tale  belongs  to  the  same  group  as  Grimm  No.  36,  The  Wishing  Table,  the 
Gold- ASK,  and  the  Cudgel  in  the  Sack ;  No.  54,  The  Knapsack,  the  Hat,  and  the 
Horn  (to  which  see  the  bibliographical  note  in  Hunt's  edition).  (Dr  Rouse.)  Of. 
also  the  note  on  Jat.  400,  p.  269,  and  Clouston,  i.  72  ff.,  on  magical  treasures. 


Once  upon  a  time,  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  in  a  farmer's  family, 
and  when  he  grew  up  he  got  a  livelihood  by  tillage. 

At  the  same  time  there  was  a  Merchant  who  used  to 
go  about  hawking  goods,  which  a  donkey  carried  for  him. 
Wherever  he  went,  he  used  to  take  his  bundle  off  the  ass, 
and  throw  a  lionskin  over  him,  and  then  turn  him  loose 
in  the  rice  and  barley  fields.  When  the  watchmen  saw 
this  creature,  they  imagined  him  to  be  a  lion,  and  so 
durst  not  come  near  him. 

One  day  this  hawker  stopped  at  a  certain  village,  and 
while  he  was  getting  his  own  breakfast  cooked,  he  turned 
the  ass  loose  in  a  barley  field  with  the  lionskin  on.  The 
watchmen  thought  it  was  a  lion,  and  durst  not  come  near, 
but  fled  home  and  gave  the  alarm.  All  the  villagers 
armed  themselves,  and  hurried  to  the  field,  shouting  and 
blowing  on  conchs  and  beating  drums.  The  ass  was 
frightened  out  of  his  wits,  and  gave  a  hee-haw !  Then  the 


Bodhisatta,  seeing  that  it  was  a  donkey,  repeated  the  first 
stanza : 

Nor  lion  nor  tiger  I  see, 

Not  even  a  panther  is  he: 

But  a  donkey — the  wretched  old  hack! 

With  a  liouskin  over  his  back! 

As  soon  as  the  villagers  learnt  that  it  was  only  an  ass, 
they  cudgelled  him  till  they  broke  his  bones,  and  then  went 
off*  with  the  lionskin.  When  the  Merchant  appeared,  and 
found  that  his  ass  had  come  to  grief,  he  repeated  the 
second  stanza: 

The  donkey,  if  he  had  been  wise, 
Might  long1  the  green  barley  have  eaten; 
A  lionskin  was  his  disguise:— 
But  he  gave  a  hee-haw,  and  got  beaten! 

As  he  was  in  the  act  of  uttering  these  words,  the  ass 
expired.  The  Merchant  left  him,  and  went  his  way. 

In  P.  (T.)  in.  1  the  skin  is  a  panther's,  and  is  evidence  for  the  Kashmirian  origin 
of  this  recension.  In  P.  (B.)  iv.  7  it  is  changed  with  the  locality  to  a  tiger-skin, 
more  familiar  further  south.  A  trace  of  the  earlier  version  is  seen  in  the  first  stanza 
of  the  jataka,  where  a  panther  is  referred  to.  In  Aesop  (Babr.  139,  Halm  333),  as 
Prof.  Rhys  David  notes,  a  natural  reason  for  the  use  of  the  skin  is  not  given.  Som. 
LXII.  18  (ii.  65)  follows  P.  (T.).  The  earliest  reference  to  the  fable  in  Greek  literature 
is  Lucian,  Piscat.  c.  32,  the  supposed  reference  in  Plato,  Crat.  411  A,  being  to  the 
lion's  skin  of  Hercules,  nor  is  there  necessarily  any  reference  in  Hor.  Sat.  i.  6.  22, 
II.  1.  64.  Cf.  Hausrath,  Jacobs  57. 


Once  upon  a  time,  when  king  Brahmadatta  was  reigning 
in  Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  of  his  chief  queen. 
He  came  of  age,  and  his  father  passed  away  ;  and  then  he 
became  king  and  ruled  in  righteousness. 

The  Bodhisatta  had  a  family  priest  named  Ruhaka, 
and  this  Ruhaka  had  an  old  brahmin  woman  to  wife. 

The  king  gave  the  brahmin  a  horse  accoutred  with  all 


its  trapping's,  and  he  mounted  the  horse  and  went  to  wait 
upon  the  king.  As  he  rode  along  on  the  back  of  his 
richly  caparisoned  steed,  the  people  on  this  side  and  that 
were  loud  in  its  praise:  "See  that  fine  horse!"  they  cried; 
"what  a  beauty!" 

When  he  came  home  again,  he  went  into  his  mansion 
and  told  his  wife,  "Goodwife,"  said  he,  "our  horse  is 
passing  fine !  Right  and  left  the  people  are  all  speaking 
in  praise  of  it." 

Now  his  wife  was  no  better  than  she  should  be,  and  full 
of  deceit ;  so  she  made  reply  to  him  thus. 

"Ah,  husband,  you  do  not  know  wherein  lies  the  beauty 
of  this  horse.  It  is  all  in  his  fine  trappings.  Now  if  you 
would  make  yourself  fine  like  the  horse,  put  his  trappings 
on  yourself  and  go  down  into  the  street,  prancing  along 
horse-fashion.  You  will  see  the  king,  and  he  will  praise 
you,  and  all  the  people  will  praise  you." 

This  fool  of  a  brahmin  listened  to  it  all,  but  did  not 
know  what  she  purposed.  So  he  believed  her,  and  did  as 
she  had  said.  All  that  saw  him  laughed  aloud:  "There 
goes  a  fine  professor ! "  said  they  all.  And  the  king  cried 
shame  on  him.  "Why,  my  Teacher,"  said  he,  "has  your 
bile  gone  wrong?  Are  you  crazy?"  At  this  the  brahmin 
thought  that  he  must  have  behaved  amiss,  and  he  was 
ashamed.  So  he  was  wroth  with  his  wife,  and  made  haste 
home,  saying  to  himself,  "The  woman  has  shamed  me 
before  the  king  and  all  his  army :  I  will  chastise  her  and 
turn  her  out  of  doors ! " 

But  the  crafty  woman  found  out  that  he  had  come 
home  in  anger;  she  stole  a  march  on  him,  and  departed 
by  a  side  door,  and  made  her  way  to  the  palace,  where 
she  stayed  four  or  five  days.  When  the  king  heard  of  it, 
he  sent  for  his  priest,  and  said  to  him, 


"My  Teacher,  all  womankind  are  full  of  faults;  you 
ought  to  forgive  this  lady";  and  with  intent  to  make  him 
forgive  he  uttered  the  first  stanza: 

Even  a  broken  bowstring1  can  be  mended  and  made  whole: 
Forgive  your  wife,  and  cherish  not  this  anger  in  your  soul. 

Hearing  this,  Ruhaka  uttered  the  second : 

While  there  is  bark  and  workmen  too 
"Tis  easy  to  buy  bowstrings  new. 
Another  wife  I  will  procure; 
I've  had  enough  of  this  one,  sure. 

So  saying,  he  sent  her  away,  and  took  him  another 
brahmin  woman  to  wife. 

P.  (B.)  iv.  6.  The  minister's  wife  makes  him  have  his  head  shaved,  and  the  king's 
wife  drives  her  husband  with  a  bridle.  When  the  king  asks  his  minister  why  he  is 
shaven  at  the  wrong  time,  the  minister  retorts  on  the  king's  folly.  This  latter  point 
was  probably  omitted  in  the  jataka  in  order  to  fit  it  into  the  bodhisatta  theory.  Cf. 
Benf.  Einl.  §  187. 


Once  upon  a  time,  when  king  Brahmadatta  reigned 
over  Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  as  his  chief  queen's 
son.  On  his  name-day,  they  called  him  Prince  Paduma, 
the  Lotus  Prince.  After  him  came  six  younger  brothers. 
One  after  another  these  seven  came  of  age  and  married 
and  settled  down,  living  as  the  king's  companions. 

One  day  the  king  looked  out  into  the  palace  courts, 
and  as  he  looked  he  saw  these  men  with  a  great  following 
on  their  way  to  wait  upon  himself.  He  conceived  the 
suspicion  that  they  meant  to  slay  him,  and  seize  his 
kingdom.  So  he  sent  for  them,  and  after  this  fashion 
bespake  them. 

"My  sons,  you  may  not  dwell  in  this  town.  So  go 
elsewhere,  and  when  I  die  you  shall  return  and  take  the 
kingdom  which  belongs  to  our  family." 


They  agreed  to  their  father's  words ;  and  went  home 
weeping  and  wailing.  "  It  matters  not  where  we  go ! "  they 
cried ;  and  taking  their  wives  with  them,  they  left  the  city, 
and  journeyed  along  the  road.  By  and  by  they  came  to 
a  wood,  where  they  could  get  no  food  or  drink.  And 
being  unable  to  bear  the  pangs  of  hunger,  they  deter- 
mined to  save  their  lives  at  the  women's  cost.  They 
seized  the  youngest  brother's  wife,  and  slew  her;  they  cut 
up  her  body  into  thirteen  parts,  and  ate  it.  But  the 
Bodhisatta  and  his  wife  set  aside  one  portion,  and  ate 
the  other  between  them. 

Thus  they  did  six  days,  and  slew  and  ate  six  of  the 
women;  and  each  day  the  Bodhisatta  set  one  portion 
aside,  so  that  he  had  six  portions  saved.  On  the  seventh 
day  the  others  would  have  taken  the  Bodhisatta's  wife  to 
kill  her ;  but  instead  he  gave  them  the  six  portions  which 
he  had  kept.  "Eat  these,"  said  he;  "to-morrow  I  will 
manage."  They  all  did  eat  the  flesh ;  and  when  the  time 
came  that  they  fell  asleep,  the  Bodhisatta  and  his  wife 
made  off  together. 

When  they  had  gone  a  little  space,  the  woman  said, 
"  Husband,  I  can  go  no  further."  So  the  Bodhisatta  took 
her  upon  his  shoulders,  and  at  sunrise  he  came  out  of  the 
wood.  When  the  sun  was  risen,  said  she — "Husband,  I 
am  thirsty ! " 

"  There  is  no  water,  dear  wife ! "  said  he. 

But  she  begged  him  again  and  again,  until  he  struck 
his  right  knee  with  his  sword,  and  said, 

"  Water  there  is  none ;  but  sit  you  down  and  drink  the 
blood  here  from  my  knee."  And  so  she  did. 

By  and  by  they  came  to  the  mighty  Ganges.  They 
drank,  they  bathed,  they  ate  all  manner  of  fruits,  and 
rested  in  a  pleasant  spot.  And  there  by  a  bend  of  the 


river  they  made  a  hermit's  hut  and  took  up  their  abode 

•          •  j 

in  it. 

Now  it  happened  that  a  robber  in  the  regions  of  Upper 
Ganges  had  been  guilt}7  of  high  treason.  His  hands  and 
feet,  and  his  nose  and  ears  had  been  cut  off,  and  he  was 
laid  in  a  canoe,  and  left  to  drift  down  the  great  river.  To 
this  place  he  floated,  groaning  aloud  with  pain.  The 
Bodhisatta  heard  his  piteous  wailing. 

"  While  I  live,"  said  he,  "  no  poor  creature  shall  perish 
for  me!"  and  to  the  river  bank  he  went,  and  saved  the 
man.  He  brought  him  to  the  hut,  and  with  astringent 
lotions  and  ointments  he  tended  his  wounds. 

But  his  wife  said  to  herself,  "  Here  is  a  nice  lazy  fellow 
he  has  fetched  out  of  the  Ganges,  to  look  after ! "  and  she 
went  about  spitting  for  disgust  at  the  fellow. 

Now  when  the  man's  wounds  were  growing  together, 
the  Bodhisatta  had  him  to  dwell  there  iii  the  hut  along 
with  his  wife,  and  he  brought  fruits  of  all  kinds  from  the 
forest  to  feed  both  him  and  the  woman.  And  as  they 
thus  dwelt  together,  the  woman  fell  in  love  with  the  fellow, 
and  committed  sin.  Then  she  desired  to  kill  the  Bod- 
hisatta, and  said  to  him,  "  Husband,  as  I  sat  on  your 
shoulder  when  I  came  out  from  the  forest,  I  saw  yon  hill, 
and  I  vowed  that  if  ever  you  and  I  should  be  saved,  and 
come  to  no  harm,  I  would  make  offering  to  the  holy  spirit 
of  the  hill.  Now  this  spirit  haunts  me:  and  I  desire  to 
pay  my  offering ! " 

"Very  good,"  said  the  Bodhisatta,  not  knowing  her 
guile.  He  prepared  an  offering,  and  delivering  to  her  the 
vessel  of  offering,  he  climbed  the  hill-top.  Then  his  wife 
said  to  him, 

"  Husband,  not  the  hill-spirit,  but  you  are  my  chief  of 
gods !  Then  in  your  honour  first  of  all  I  will  offer  wild 


flowers,  and  walk  reverently  round  you,  keeping  you  on 
the  right,  and  salute  you :  and  after  that  I  will  make  my 
offering  to  the  mountain  spirit."  So  saying,  she  placed  him 
facing  a  precipice,  and  pretended  to  salute  him  by  offering 
flowers  and  walking  round  him.  Thus  getting  behind 
him,  she  smote  him  on  the  back,  and  hurled  him  down 
the  precipice.  Then  she  cried  in  her  joy,  "I  have  seen 
the  back  of  my  enemy!"  and  she  came  down  from  the 
mountain,  and  went  into  the  presence  of  her  paramour. 

Now  the  Bodhisatta  tumbled  down  the  cliff;  but  he 
stuck  fast  in  a  clump  of  leaves  on  the  top  of  a  fig-tree 
where  there  were  no  thorns.  Yet  he  could  not  get  down 
the  hill,  so  there  he  sat  among  the  branches,  eating  the 
figs.  It  happened  that  a  huge  lizard  king  used  to  climb 
the  hill  from  the  foot  of  it,  and  would  eat  the  fruit  of  this 
fig-tree.  That  day  he  saw  the  Bodhisatta  and  took  to 
flight.  On  the  next  day,  he  came  and  ate  some  fruit  on 
one  side  of  it.  Again  and  again  he  came,  till  at  last  he 
struck  up  a  friendship  with  the  Bodhisatta. 

"  How  did  you  get  to  this  place  ? "  he  asked ;  and  the 
Bodhisatta  told  him  how. 

"Well,  don't  be  afraid,"  said  the  lizard;  and  taking 
him  on  his  own  back,  he  descended  the  hill  and  brought 
him  out  of  the  forest.  There  he  set  him  upon  the  high- 
road, and  shewed  him  what  way  he  should  go,  and  himself 
returned  to  the  forest. 

The  other  proceeded  to  a  certain  village,  and  dwelt 
there  till  he  heard  of  his  father's  death.  Upon  this  he 
made  his  way  to  Benares.  There  he  inherited  the  king- 
dom which  belonged  to  his  family,  and  took  the  name  of 
King  Lotus;  the  ten  rules  of  righteousness  for  kings  he 
did  not  transgress,  and  he  ruled  uprightly.  He  built  six 
Halls  of  Bounty,  one  at  each  of  the  four  gates,  one  in  the 

P.  &  T.  11 


midst  of  the  city,  and  one  before  the  palace ;  and  every 
day  he  distributed  in  gifts  six  hundred  thousand  pieces 
of  money. 

Now  the  wicked  wife  took  her  paramour  upon  her 
shoulders,  and  came  forth  out  of  the  forest ;  and  she  went 
a-begging  among  the  people,  and  collected  rice  and  gruel 
to  support  him  withal.  If  she  was  asked  what  the  man 
was  to  her,  she  would  reply,  "  His  mother  was  sister  to  my 
father,  he  is  my  cousin1;  to  him  they  gave  me.  Even  if 
he  were  doomed  to  death  I  would  take  my  own  husband 
upon  my  shoulders,  and  care  for  him,  and  beg  food  for 
his  living!" 

"  What  a  devoted  wife ! "  said  all  the  people.  And 
thenceforward  they  gave  her  more  food  than  ever.  Some 
of  them  also  offered  advice,  saying,  "Do  not  live  in  this 
way.  King  Lotus  is  lord  of  Benares ;  he  has  set  all  India 
in  a  stir  by  his  bounty.  It  will  delight  him  to  see  you ; 
so  delighted  will  he  be,  that  he  will  give  you  rich  gifts. 
Put  your  husband  in  this  basket,  and  make  your  way  to 
him."  So  saying,  they  persuaded  her,  and  gave  her  a 
basket  of  osiers. 

The  wicked  woman  placed  her  paramour  in  the  basket, 
and  taking  it  up  she  repaired  to  Benares,  and  lived  on 
what  she  got  at  the  Halls  of  Bounty.  Now  the  Bodhisatta 
used  to  ride  to  an  alms-hall  upon  the  back  of  a  splendid 
elephant  richly  dight ;  and  after  giving  alms  to  eight  or 
ten  people,  he  would  set  out  again  for  home.  Then  the 
wicked  woman  placed  her  paramour  in  the  basket,  and 
taking  it  up,  she  stood  where  the  king  was  used  to  pass. 
The  king  saw  her.  "Who  is  this? "  he  asked.  "A  devoted 
wife,"  was  the  answer.  He  sent  for  her,  and  recognised 

1  The  Panchatantra  says  "  his  kinsfolk  persecuted  him,"  which  gives  a  reason  for 
the  state  he  was  seen  in.    (Dr  Rouse.) 


who  she  was.  He  caused  the  man  to  be  put  down  from 
the  basket,  and  asked  her,  "What  is  this  man  to  you?" 
-"He  is  the  son  of  my  fathers  sister,  given  me  by  my 
family,  my  own  husband,"  she  answered. 

"Ah,  what  a  devoted  wife!"  cried  they  all:  for  they 
knew  not  the  ins  and  outs  of  it;  and  they  praised  the 
wicked  woman. 

"  What — is  the  scoundrel  your  cousin  ?  did  your  family 
give  him  to  you?"  asked  the  king;  "your  husband,  is 

She  did  not  recognise  the  king ;  and  "  Yes,  my  lord ! " 
said  she,  as  bold  as  you  like. 

"And  is  this  the  king  of  Benares'  son?  Are  you  not 
the  wife  of  prince  Lotus,  the  daughter  of  such  and  such 
a  king,  your  name  so  and  so  ?  Did  not  you  drink  the 
blood  from  my  knee  ?  Did  you  not  fall  in  love  with  this 
rascal,  and  throw  me  down  a  precipice  ?  Ah,  you  thought 
that  I  was  dead,  and  here  you  are  with  death  written 
upon  your  own  forehead — and  here  am  I,  alive!"  Then 
he  turned  to  his  courtiers.  "Do  you  remember  what  I 
told  you,  when  you  questioned  me?  My  six  younger 
brothers  slew  their  six  wives  and  ate  them ;  but  I  kept  my 
wife  unhurt,  and  brought  her  to  Ganges'  bank,  where  I 
dwelt  in  a  hermit's  hut:  I  hauled  a  condemned  criminal 
out  of  the  river,  and  supported  him;  this  woman  fell  in 
love  with  him,  and  threw  me  down  a  precipice,  but  I  saved 
my  life  by  shewing  kindness.  This  is  no  other  than  the 
wicked  woman  who  threw  me  off  the  crag:  this,  and  no 
other,  is  the  condemned  wretch!"  And  then  he  uttered 
the  following  verses: 

'Tis  I — no  other,  and  this  quean  is  she; 
The  handless  knave,  no  other,  there  you  see; 
Quoth  she — "This  is  the  husband  of  my  youth." 
Women  deserve  to  die;  they  have  no  truth. 



With  a  great  club  beat  out  the  scoundrel's  life 
Who  lies  in  wait  to  steal  his  neighbour's  wife. 
Then  take  the  faithful  harlot  by  and  by, 
And  shear  off  nose  and  ears  before  she  die. 

But  although  the  Bodhisatta  could  not  swallow  his 
anger,  and  ordained  this  punishment  for  them,  he  did  not 
do  accordingly ;  but  he  smothered  his  wrath,  and  had  the 
basket  fixed  upon  her  head  so  fast  that  she  could  not 
take  it  off;  the  villain  he  had  placed  in  the  same,  and 
they  were  driven  out  of  his  kingdom. 

The  version  in  Som.  LXV.  (ii.  101)  is  a  jataka  and  closely  follows  this.  The 
woman's  nose  and  ears  are  cut  off,  and  this  must  have  been  the  earlier  ending  of 
the  present  tale,  as  is  implied  by  the  verses.  This  feature  is  omitted  in  Tib.  T.  xxi. 
In  P.  (B.)  iv.  5  the  husband  saves  her  life  by  giving  her  half  his  own.  She  afterwards 
pushes  him  into  a  well  and  goes  to  the  city  with  the  cripple,  where  the  king  (not  her 
husband)  gives  them  support.  When  her  husband  discovers  her,  she  accuses  him 
of  being  her  enemy.  He  demands  back  what  he  has  given  her,  she  gives  it  him 
(i.e.  her  life1,  and  falls  dead.  In  Som.  xrv.  (i.  98)  the  brahmin  Ruru  thus  saves  the 
life  of  his  betrothed,  who  was  bitten  by  a  snake.  Cf.  Grimm  16,  Anm. 


Once  upon  a  time,  there  Avas  in  the  island  of  Ceylon 
a  goblin  town  called  Sirisavatthu,  peopled  by  she-goblins. 
When  a  ship  is  wrecked,  these  adorn  and  deck  themselves, 
and  taking  rice  and  gruel,  with  trains  of  slaves,  and  their 
children  on  their  hip,  they  come  up  to  the  merchants. 
In  order  to  make  them  imagine  that  theirs  is  a  city  of 
human  beings,  they  make  them  see  here  and  there  men 
ploughing  and  tending  kine,  herds  of  cattle,  dogs,  and 
the  like.  Then  approaching  the  merchants  they  invite 
them  to  partake  of  the  gruel,  rice,  and  other  food  which 
they  bring.  The  merchants,  all  unaware,  eat  of  what  is 
offered.  When  they  have  eaten  and  drunken,  and  are 
taking  their  rest,  the  goblins  address  them  thus:  "Where 

1  The  magical  Valaha  horse  is  one  of  the  king's  seven  treasures  of  Empire  in 
Jat.  479,  and  OHC  of  the  chariot-horses  of  Vishnu  in  the  Mahabharata. 


do  you  live?  where  do  you  come  from?  whither  are  you 
going,  and  what  errand  brought  you  here?"  "We  were 
shipwrecked  here,"  they  reply.  "Very  good,  noble  sirs," 
the  others  make  answer;  "'tis  three  years  ago  since  our 
own  husbands  went  on  board  ship ;  they  must  have  perished. 
You  are  merchants  too;  we  will  be  your  wives."  Thus 
they  lead  them  astray  by  their  women's  wiles,  and  tricks, 
and  dalliance,  until  they  get  them  into  the  goblin  city; 
then,  if  they  have  any  others  already  caught,  they  bind 
these  with  magic  chains,  and  cast  them  into  the  house  of 
torment.  And  if  they  find  no  shipwrecked  men  in  the 
place  where  they  dwell,  they  scour  the  coast  as  far  as  the 
river  Kalyani1  on  one  side  and  the  island  of  Nagadipa  on 
the  other.  This  is  their  way. 

Now  it  happened  once  that  five  hundred  shipwrecked 
traders  were  cast  ashore  near  the  city  of  these  she-goblins. 
The  goblins  came  up  to  them  and  enticed  them,  till  they 
brought  them  to  their  city;  those  whom  they  had  caught 
before,  they  bound  with  magic  chains  and  cast  them  into 
the  house  of  torment.  Then  the  chief  goblin  took  the 
chief  man,  and  the  others  took  the  rest,  till  five  hundred 
had  the  five  hundred  traders;  and  they  made  the  men 
their  husbands.  Then  in  the  night  time,  when  her  man 
was  asleep,  the  chief  she-goblin  rose  up,  and  made  her 
way  to  the  house  of  death,  slew  some  of  the  men  and  ate 
them.  The  others  did  the  same.  When  the  eldest  goblin 
returned  from  eating  men's  flesh,  her  body  was  cold.  The 
eldest  merchant  embraced  her,  and  perceived  that  she 
was  a  goblin.  "All  the  five  hundred  of  them  must  be 
goblins!"  he  thought  to  himself:  "we  must  make  our 
escape ! " 

So  in  the  early  morning,  when  he  went  to  wash  his 

1  The  modern  Kselani-ganga  (Journ.  of  the  Pali  Text  Soc.,  1888,  p.  20). 


face,  he  bespake  the  other  merchants  in  these  words. 
"  These  are  goblins,  and  not  human  beings !  As  soon  as 
other  shipwrecked  men  can  be  found,  they  will  make  them 
their  husbands,  and  will  eat  us ;  come — let  us  escape ! " 

Two  hundred  and  fifty  of  them  replied,  "We  cannot 
leave  them :  go  ye,  if  ye  will,  but  we  will  not  flee  away." 

Then  the  chief  trader  with  two  hundred  and  fifty,  who 
were  ready  to  obey  him,  fled  away  in  fear  of  the  goblins. 

Now  at  that  time,  the  Bodhisatta  had  come  into  the 
world  as  a  flying  horse,  white  all  over,  and  beaked  like  a 
crow,  with  hair  like  munja  grass,  possessed  of  super- 
natural power,  able  to  fly  through  the  air.  From  Himalaya 
he  flew  through  the  air  until  he  came  to  Ceylon.  There 
he  passed  over  the  ponds  and  tanks  of  Ceylon,  and  ate 
the  paddy  that  grew  wild  there.  As  he  passed  on  thus, 
he  thrice  uttered  human  speech  filled  with  mercy,  saying 
-"Who  wants  to  go  home?  who  wants  to  go  home?" 
The  traders  heard  his  saying,  and  cried — "  We  are  going 
home,  master!"  joining  their  hands,  and  raising  them 
respectfully  to  their  foreheads.  "  Then  climb  up  on  my 
back,"  said  the  Bodhisatta.  Thereat  some  of  them  climbed 
up,  some  laid  hold  of  his  tail,  and  some  remained  standing, 
with  a  respectful  salute.  Then  the  Bodhisatta  took  up 
even  those  who  stood  still  saluting  him,  and  conveyed  all 
of  them,  even  two  hundred  and  fifty,  to  their  own  country, 
and  set  down  each  in  his  own  place;  then  he  went  back 
to  his  place  of  dwelling. 

And  the  she-goblins,  when  other  men  came  to  that 
place,  slew  those  two  hundred  and  fifty  who  were  left,  and 
devoured  them. 

Ditydvaddna  524,  Kdrandavyuha  52,  Beal,  Rom.  Leg.  332,  a  Tibetan  version  by 
Wenzel,  JRAS.,  1888,  503.  The  magic  horse,  which  in  the  Pali  is  a  previous  incarna- 
tion of  Buddha,  is  also  an  episode  in  the  tale  of  Supriya  (Dicydt.  120),  and  is  there 
an  incarnation  of  Maitrcya,  and  in  the  Karandavyuha  of  Avalokitesvara.  Wenzel 


compares  the  myth  of  the  sirens,  and  explains  the  magic  horse  as  a  myth  of  the  moon, 
but  Beal  as  the  white  crested  waves  at  the  change  of  the  monsoon.  It  is  illustrated 
on  the  bas-reliefs  of  the  temple  of  Boro-Boedoer  in  Java  (Leemans,  Boro-Boudour, 
pi.  389,  Leide,  1874),  and  on  a  railing  at  Mathura  (Anderson,  Catalogue  of  the  Indian 
Museum,  i.  p.  189).  Cf.  Kuhn,  p.  81. 


Once  upon  a  time,  when  Brahmadatta  was  king  of 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  came  into  the  world  as  a  young 
parrot.  His  name  was  Radha,  and  his  youngest  brother 
was  named  Potthapada.  While  they  were  yet  quite  young, 
both  of  them  were  caught  by  a  fowler  and  handed  over  to 
a  brahmin  in  Benares.  The  brahmin  cared  for  them  as 
if  they  were  his  children.  But  the  brahmin's  wife  was  a 
wicked  wroman ;  there  wras  no  watching  her. 

The  husband  had  to  go  away  on  business,  and  addressed 
his  young  parrots  thus.  "Little  dears,  I  am  going  away 
on  business.  Keep  watch  on  your  mother  in  season  and 
out  of  season;  observe  whether  or  not  any  man  visits 
her."  So  off  he  went,  leaving  his  wife  in  charge  of  the 
young  parrots. 

As  soon  as  he  was  gone,  the  woman  began  to  do  wrong ; 

night  and  day  the  visitors  came  and  went — there  was  no 

end  to  them.     Potthapada,  observing  this,  said  to  Radha 

— "  Our  master  gave  this  woman  into  our  charge,  and  here 

she  is  doing  wickedness.     I  will  speak  to  her." 

"  Don't,"  said  Radha.  But  the  other  would  not  listen. 
"  Mother,"  said  he,  "  why  do  you  commit  sin  ? " 

How  she  longed  to  kill  him!  But  making  as  though 
she  would  fondle  him,  she  called  him  to  her. 

"  Little  one,  you  are  my  son !  I  will  never  do  it  again ! 
Here,  then,  the  dear ! "  So  he  came  out ;  then  she  seized 
him  crying, 


"  What !  you  preach  to  me  \  you  don't  know  your  mea- 
sure!" and  she  wrung  his  neck,  and  threw  him  into  the 

The  brahmin  returned.  When  he  had  rested,  he  asked 
the  Bodhisatta:  "Well,  my  dear,  what  about  your  mother 
-does  she  do  wrong,  or  no  ? "  and  as  he  asked  the  question, 
he  repeated  the  first  couplet: 

I  come,  my  son,  the  journey  done,  and  now  I  am  at  home  again: 
Come  tell  me ;  is  your  mother  true  ?  does  she  make  love  to  other  men  ? 

Radha  answered,  "  Father  dear,  the  wise  speak  not  of 
things  which  do  not  conduce  to  blessing,  whether  they 
have  happened  or  not";  and  he  explained  this  by  re- 
peating the  second  couplet: 

For  what  he  said  he  now  lies  dead,  burnt  up  beneath  the  ashes  there : 
It  is  not  well  the  truth  to  tell,  lest  Potthapada's  fate  I  share. 

Thus  did  the  Bodhisatta  hold  forth  to  the  brahmin; 
and  he  went  on — "This  is  no  place  for  me  to  live  in 
either";  then  bidding  the  brahmin  farewell,  he  flew  away 
to  the  woods. 


A  shorter  variant  in  Jilt.  145.  This  is  the  frame  story  of  Suk.,  and  of  the  Persian 
and  Turkish  derivatives  Ttitl-ndmeh.  The  Pali  form  is  closer  to  these  latter  than 
to  the  Sanskrit.  As  in  the  Persian  there  are  two  birds,  one  of  which  is  killed 
through  his  rashness,  and  the  wife  is  put  to  death.  In  the  Sanskrit  there  is  one 
bird,  which  is  given  to  the  man  to  cure  him  of  his  evil  courses,  and  the  erring  wife  is 
finally  pardoned,  Gesta  Rom.  68.  Other  variants  in  Clouston,  ii.  196  ff.  A  Jain 
version  is  given  in  J.  J.  Meyer's  Hindu  Tales,  302.  London,  1909. 


Once  upon  a  time,  when  Brahmadatta  ruled  in  Benares, 
the  Bodhisatta  was  born  as  a  brahmin's  son.  He  came 
of  aj>'e,  and  received  his  education  at  Takkasila;  then  on 

O     "  7 

returning  he  became  a  famous  teacher. 

Now  there  was  a  brahmin  who  had  four  daughters. 


These  four  were  wooed  by  four  persons  as  told  above1. 
The  brahmin  could  not  decide  to  whom  to  give  them. 
"  I  will  enquire  of  the  teacher,"  he  thought,  "  and  then  he 
shall  have  them  to  whom  they  should  be  given."  So  he 
came  into  the  teacher's  presence,  and  repeated  the  first 

One  is  good,  and  one  is  noble ;  one  has  beauty,  one  has  years. 

Answer  me  this  question,  brahmin;  of  the  four,  which  best  appears? 

Hearing  this,  the  teacher  replied,  "  Even  though  there 
be  beauty  and  the  like  qualities,  a  man  is  to  be  despised 
if  he  fail  in  virtue.  Therefore  the  former  is  not  the 
measure  of  a  man ;  those  that  I  like  are  the  virtuous."  And 
in  explanation  of  this  matter,  he  repeated  the  second 

Good  is  beauty:  to  the  aged  shew  respect,  for  this  is  right: 
Good  is  noble  birth;  but  virtue — virtue,  that  is  my  delight. 

When  the  brahmin  heard  this,  he  gave  all  his  daughters 
to  the  virtuous  wooer. 

Possibly  a  much  moralised  version  of  Vet.  2,  where  four  wooers  dispute  for  the 
hand  of  a  brahmin's  daughter.  This  occurs  in  Som.  LXXVI.  (ii.  242),  the  Hindi 
Baital  Pachisi,  and  Burmese  Precedents  of  Princess  Sudharnmacarl  (tr.  by 
St  John  in  Folkl.  Journ.  vii.  309  ff.),  where  there  are  only  three  wooers. 


Once  upon  a  time,  while  Brahmadatta  reigned  as  king 
in  Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  became  a  marsh  crow,  and 
dwelt  by  a  certain  pool.  His  name  was  Viraka,  the 

There  arose  a  famine  in  Kasi.  Men  could  not  spare 
food  for  the  crows,  nor  make  offering  to  goblins  and 
nagas.  One  by  one  the  crows  left  the  famine-stricken 
land,  and  betook  them  to  the  woods. 

1  I.e.  in  the  introductory  story,  in  which  Buddha  is  consulted  by  a  brahmin  whose 
daughters  are  wooed  by  four  suitors,  one  handsome,  one  old,  one  of  good  family,  and 
one  good. 


A  certain  crow  named  Savitthaka,  who  lived  at  Benares, 
took  with  him  his  lady  crow  and  went  to  the  place  where 
Viraka  lived,  making  his  abode  beside  the  same  pool. 

One  day,  this  crow  was  seeking  food  about  the  pool. 
He  saw  how  Viraka  went  down  into  it,  and  made  a  meal 
off  some  fish;  and  afterwards  came  up  out  of  the  water 
again,  and  stood  drying  his  feathers.  "Under  the  wing 
of  that  crow,"  thought  he,  "  plenty  of  fish  are  to  be  got. 
I  will  become  his  servant."  So  he  drew  near. 

"  What  is  it,  Sir  ? "  asked  Viraka. 

"  I  want  to  be  your  servant,  my  lord  ! "  was  the  reply. 

Viraka  agreed,  and  from  that  time  the  other  served 

O  ' 

him.  And  from  that  time,  Viraka  used  to  eat  enough  fish 
to  keep  him  alive,  and  the  rest  he  gave  to  Savitthaka  as 
soon  as  he  had  caught  them;  and  when  Savitthaka  had 
eaten  enough  to  keep  him  alive,  he  gave  what  was  over  to 
his  wife. 

After  a  while  pride  came  into  his  heart.  "  This  crow," 
said  he,  "  is  black,  and  so  am  I :  in  eyes  and  beak  and  feet, 
too,  there  is  no  difference  between  us.  I  don't  want  his 
fish;  I  will  catch  my  own!"  So  he  told  Viraka  that  for 
the  future  he  intended  to  go  down  to  the  water  and  catch 
fish  himself.  Then  Viraka  said,  "  Good  friend,  you  do  not 
belong  to  a  tribe  of  such  crows  as  are  born  to  go  into 
water  and  catch  fish.  Don't  destroy  yourself!" 

But  in  spite  of  this  attempt  to  dissuade  him,  Savitthaka 
did  not  take  the  warning  to  heart.  Down  he  went  to  the 
pool,  down  into  the  water;  but  he  could  not  make  his 
way  through  the  weeds  and  come  out  again — there  he 
was,  entangled  in  the  weeds,  with  only  the  tip  of  his  beak 
appearing  above  the  water.  So  not  being  able  to  breathe 
he  perished  there  beneath  the  water. 

His  mate  noticed  that  he  did  not  return,  and  went  to 


Viraka  to  ask  news  of  him.  "  My  lord,"  she  asked,  "  Savit- 
thaka  is  not  to  be  seen:  where  is  he?"  And  as  she  asked 
him  this,  she  repeated  the  first  stanza: 

0  have  you  seen  Savitthaka,  0  Viraka,  have  you  seen 

My  sweet-voiced  mate  whose  neck  is  like  the  peacock  in  its  sheen  ? 

When  Viraka  heard  it,  he  replied,  "  Yes,  I  know  where 
he  is  gone,"  and  recited  the  second  stanza : 

He  was  not  horn  to  dive  beneath  the  wave, 
But  what  he  could  not  do  he  needs  must  try; 

So  the  poor  bird  has  found  a  watery  grave, 
Entangled  in  the  weeds,  and  left  to  die. 

When  the  lady-crow  heard  it,  weeping,  she  returned  to 

Cf.  Jat.  143,  p.  124,  of  which  Jat.  335  is  a  variant,  Aesop,  The  Fox  and  the  Lion 
(Halm  41),  La  Fontaine,  ir.  16,  Le  Corbeau  voulant  imiter  VAigle.    Jacobs  73. 


Once  upon  a  time,  when  Brahmadatta  was  king  of 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  became  an  Antelope,  and  lived 
within  a  forest,  in  a  thicket  near  a  certain  lake.  Not  far 
from  the  same  lake,  sat  a  Woodpecker  perched  at  the  top 
of  a  tree;  and  in  the  lake  dwelt  a  Tortoise.  And  the 
three  became  friends,  and  lived  together  in  amity. 

A  hunter,  wandering  about  in  the  wood,  observed  the 
Bodhisatta's  footprint  at  the  going  down  into  the  water; 
and  he  set  a  trap  of  leather,  strong,  like  an  iron  chain, 
and  went  his  way.  In  the  first  watch  of  the  night  the 
Bodhisatta  went  down  to  drink,  and  got  caught  in  the 
noose:  whereat  he  cried  the  cry  of  capture.  Thereupon  the 
Woodpecker  flew  down  from  her  tree- top,  and  the  Tortoise 
came  out  of  the  water,  and  consulted  what  was  to  be  done. 


Said  the  Woodpecker  to  the  Tortoise,  "  Friend,  you 
have  teeth  —bite  this  snare  through ;  I  will  go  and  see  to 
it  that  the  hunter  keeps  away;  and  if  we  both  do  our  best, 
our  friend  will  not  lose  his  life."  To  make  this  clear  he 
uttered  the  first  stanza : 

Come,  Tortoise,  tear  the  leathern  suare,  and  bite  it  through  and  through, 
And  of  the  hunter  I'll  take  care,  and  keep  him  off  from  you. 

The  Tortoise  began  to  gnaw  the  leather  thong:  the 
Woodpecker  made  his  way  to  the  hunter's  dwelling.  At 
dawn  of  day  the  hunter  went  out,  knife  in  hand.  As  soon 
as  the  bird  saw  him  start,  he  uttered  a  cry,  napped  his 
wings,  and  struck  him  in  the  face  as  he  left  the  front  door. 
"Some  bird  of  ill  omen  has  struck  me!"  thought  the 
hunter;  he  turned  back,  and  lay  down  for  a  little  while. 
Then  he  rose  up  again,  and  took  his  knife.  The  bird 
reasoned  within  himself,  "The  first  time  he  went  out  by 
the  front  door,  so  now  he  will  leave  by  the  back  " :  and  he 
sat  him  down  behind  the  house.  The  hunter,  too,  reasoned 
in  the  same  way:  "When  I  went  out  by  the  front  door,  I 
saw  a  bad  omen,  now  will  I  go  out  by  the  back!"  and  so 
he  did.  But  the  bird  cried  out  again,  and  struck  him  in 
the  face.  Finding  that  he  was  again  struck  by  a  bird  of 
ill  omen,  the  hunter  exclaimed,  "This  creature  will  not 
let  me  go!"  and  turning  back  he  lay  down  until  sunrise, 
and  when  the  sun  was  risen,  he  took  his  knife  and  started. 

The  Woodpecker  made  all  haste  back  to  his  friends. 
"Here  comes  the  hunter!"  he  cried.  By  this  time  the 
Tortoise  had  gnawed  through  all  the  thongs  but  one  tough 
thong:  his  teeth  seemed  as  though  they  would  fall  out, 
and  his  mouth  was  all  smeared  with  blood.  The  Bodhi- 
satta  saw  the  young  hunter  coming  on  like  lightning,  knife 
in  hand ;  he  burst  the  thong,  and  fled  into  the  woods.  The 
Woodpecker  perched  upon  his  tree-top.  But  the  Tortoise 


was  so  weak,  that  he  lay  where  he  was.  The  hunter  threw 
him  into  a  bag,  and  tied  it  to  a  tree. 

The  Bodhisatta  observed  that  the  Tortoise  was  taken, 
and  determined  to  save  his  friend's  life.  So  he  let  the 
hunter  see  him,  and  made  as  though  he  were  weak.  The 
hunter  saw  him,  and  thinking  him  to  be  weak,  seized  his 
knife  and  set  out  in  pursuit.  The  Bodhisatta,  keeping  just 
out  of  his  reach,  led  him  into  the  forest;  and  when  he  saw 
that  they  had  come  far  away,  gave  him  the  slip  and  re- 
turned swift  as  the  wind  by  another  way.  He  lifted  the 
bag  with  his  horns,  threw  it  upon  the  ground,  ripped  it 
open  and  let  the  Tortoise  out.  And  the  Woodpecker 
came  down  from  the  tree. 

Then  the  Bodhisatta  thus  addressed  them  both:  "My 
life  has  been  saved  by  you,  and  you  have  done  a  friend's 
part  to  me.  Now  the  hunter  will  come  and  take  you ;  so 
do  you,  friend  Woodpecker,  migrate  elsewhere  with  your 
brood,  and  you,  friend  Tortoise,  dive  into  the  water." 
They  did  so. 

The  Master,  as  the  All-enlightened  One,  uttered  the 
second  stanza: 

The  Tortoise  went  into  the  pond,  the  Deer  into  the  wood, 
And  from  the  tree  the  Woodpecker  carried  away  his  brood. 

The  hunter  returned,  and  saw  none  of  them.  He 
found  his  bag  torn ;  picked  it  up,  and  went  home  sorrow- 
ful. And  the  three  friends  lived  all  their  life  long  in 
unbroken  amity,  and  then  passed  away  to  fare  according 
to  their  deeds. 

The  latter  part  of  the  frame  story  of  P.  u.  (crow,  mouse,  and  antelope).     Cf. 
Jat.  33,  p.  32.     Figured  on  the  Bharhut  Stupa,  pi.  xxvu.  9. 


Once  upon  a  time,  while  Brahmadatta  was  king  of 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  came  to  life  at  the  foot  of  Hima- 
laya as  a  Monkey.  He  grew  strong  and  sturdy,  big  of 
frame,  well-to-do,  and  lived  by  a  curve  of  the  river  Ganges 
in  a  forest  haunt. 

Now  at  that  time  there  was  a  Crocodile  dwelling  in  the 
Ganges.  The  Crocodile's  mate  saw  the  great  frame  of  the 
monkey,  and  she  conceived  a  longing  for  his  heart  to  eat. 
So  she  said  to  her  lord :  "  Sir,  I  desire  to  eat  the  heart  of 
that  great  king  of  the  monkeys  ! " 

"  Good  wife,"  said  the  Crocodile,  "  we  live  in  the  water 
and  he  lives  on  dry  land :  how  can  we  catch  him  ? " 

"  By  hook  or  by  crook,"  she  replied,  "  caught  he  must 
be.  If  I  don't  get  him,  I  shall  die." 

"All  right,"  answered  the  Crocodile,  consoling  her, 
"  don't  trouble  yourself.  I  have  a  plan ;  I  will  give  you  his 
heart  to  eat." 

So  when  the  Bodhisatta  was  sitting  on  the  bank  of  the 
Ganges,  after  taking  a  drink  of  water,  the  Crocodile  drew 
near,  and  said : 

"  Sir  Monkey,  why  do  you  live  on  bad  fruits  in  this  old 
familiar  place  ?  On  the  other  side  of  the  Ganges  there  is 
no  end  to  the  mango  trees,  and  bread-fruit  trees1,  with  fruit 
sweet  as  honey !  Is  it  not  better  to  cross  over  and  have  all 
kinds  of  wild  fruit  to  eat  ? " 

"  Lord  Crocodile,"  the  Monkey  made  answer,  "deep  and 
wide  is  the  Ganges :  how  shall  I  get  across  ? " 

"  If  you  will  go,  I  will  mount  you  on  my  back,  and  carry 
you  over." 

1  Artocarpus  Lacucha  (Childers). 


The  Monkey  trusted  him,  and  agreed.  "Come  here, 
then,"  said  the  other,  "  up  on  my  back  with  you ! "  and  up 
the  monkey  climbed.  But  when  the  Crocodile  had  swum 
a  little  way,  he  plunged  the  Monkey  under  the  water. 

"Good  friend,  you  are  letting  me  sink!"  cried  the 
Monkey.  "What  is  that  for?" 

Said  the  Crocodile,  "  You  think  I  am  carrying  you  out 
of  pure  good  nature  ?  Not  a  bit  of  it !  My  wife  has 
a  longing  for  your  heart,  and  I  want  to  give  it  her  to 
eat ! " 

"  Friend,"  said  the  Monkey,  "  it  is  nice  of  you  to  tell 
me.  Why,  if  our  heart  were  inside  us  when  we  go  jumping 
among  the  tree-tops,  it  would  be  all  knocked  to  pieces ! " 

"  Well,  where  do  you  keep  them  ?  "  asked  the  other. 

The  Bodhisatta  pointed  out  a  fig-tree,  with  clusters  of 
ripe  fruit,  standing  not  far  off.  "  See,"  said  he,  "  there  are 
our  hearts  hanging  on  yon  fig-tree." 

"  If  you  will  shew  me  your  heart,"  said  the  Crocodile, 
"  then  I  won't  kill  you." 

"  Take  me  to  the  tree,  then,  and  I  will  point  it  out  to 
you  hanging  upon  it." 

The  Crocodile  brought  him  to  the  place.  The  Monkey 
leapt  off  his  back,  and  climbing  up  the  fig-tree  sat  upon  it. 
"  O  silly  Crocodile ! "  said  he,  "  you  thought  that  there  were 
creatures  that  kept  their  hearts  in  a  tree-top !  You  are  a 
fool,  and  I  have  outwitted  you !  You  may  keep  your  fruit 
to  yourself.  Your  body  is  great,  but  you  have  no  sense." 
And  then  to  explain  this  idea  he  uttered  the  following 
stanzas : 

Kose-apple,  bread-fruit,  mangoes  too  across  the  water  there  I  see; 
Enough  of  them,  I  want  them  not;  my  fig  is  good  enough  for  me! 

Great  is  your  body,  verily,  but  how  much  smaller  is  your  wit! 
Now  go  your  ways,  Sir  Crocodile,  for  I  have  had  the  best  of  it. 


The  Crocodile,  feeling  as  sad  and  miserable  as  if  he  had 
lost  a  thousand  pieces  of  money,  went  back  sorrowing  to 
the  place  where  he  lived. 

Frame  story  of  P.  iv.  A  tale  widely  spread  by  means  of  buddhism  in  Asia. 
Variants  in  Jat.  57,  342,  Cariya-Pit.  in.  7,  Mahatastu  n.  108,  O'Connor,  Folktales 
from  Tibet  20,  Griffis,  Japanese  Fairy  World,  No.  17,  Beal,  Romantic  Legend, 
231,  K.  D.  (Syr.)  in.  (Arab.)  ix.  Benfey  compares  Aesop  (Halm  363),  Monkey  and 
Dolphin.  In  Jat.  57  the  monkey  has  to  leap  on  a  rock  which  is  occupied  by  the 
crocodile.  The  monkey  addresses  the  rock,  and  the  crocodile  reveals  himself  by 
replying.  This  incident  is  parallel  to  P.  (T.)  in.,  Anhang  in.,  (B.)  m.  14,  The  Fox  and 
the  speaking  Hole.  This  fable  is  first  found  in  Greek  in  Plato,  Alcib.  I.  123  A.  In 
Jat.  21  an  antelope  speaks  to  a  tree  in  which  he  suspects  a  hunter.  Dr  Rouse  gives 
a  Jewish  form  given  by  Mr  I.  Xestor  Schnunnann,  who  heard  it  from  his 
nurse  (about  1860). — "Once  upon  a  time,  the  King  of  the  Fishes  was  Avanting  in 
wisdom.  His  advisers  told  him  that  once  he  could  get  the  heart  of  the  fox,  he  would 
become  wise.  So  he  sent  a  deputation,  consisting  of  the  great  magnates  of  the 
sea,  whales  and  others.  'Our  king  wants  your  advice  on  some  state  affairs.'  The 
fox,  flattered,  consented.  A  whale  took  him  on  his  back.  On  the  way  the  waves 
beat  upon  him;  at  last  he  asked  what  they  really  wanted.  They  said,  what  their 
king  really  wanted  was  to  eat  his  heart,  by  which  he  hoped  to  become  clever.  He 
said,  '  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  that  before  ?  I  would  gladly  sacrifice  my  life  for  such 
a  worthy  object.  But  we  foxes  always  leave  our  hearts  at  home.  Take  me  back 
and  I'll  fetch  it.  Otherwise  I'm  sure  your  king  will  be  angry.'  So  they  took  him 
back.  As  soon  as  he  got  near  the  shore,  he  leaped  on  land,  and  cried  'Ah  you 
fools!  Have  you  ever  heard  of  an  animal  not  carrying  his  heart  with  him?'  and 
ran  off.  The  fish  had  to  return  empty."  See  The  fox's  heart  in  The  Book  of 
Delight  (Philadelphia,  1912)  by  I.  Abrahams,  who  gives  the  Jewish  version  from  the 
Alphabetum  Siracidis,  and  much  information  on  the  folklore  of  eating  the  heart. 


Once  upon  a  time,  while  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  as  one  of  a  family  of 
poor  acrobats,  that  lived  by  begging.  So  when  he  grew 
up,  he  was  needy  and  squalid,  and  by  begging  he  lived. 

There  was  at  the  time,  in  a  certain  village  of  Kasi,  a 


brahmin  whose  wife  Avas  bad  and  wicked,  and  did  wrong. 
And  it  befell  that  the  husband  went  abroad  one  day  upon 
some  matter,  and  her  lover  watching  his  time  went  to  visit 
the  house.  After  she  had  received  him,  he  said,  "  I  will 
eat  a  bit  before  I  go."  So  she  made  ready  the  food,  and 
served  up  rice  hot  with  sauce  and  curry,  and  gave  it  him, 
bidding  him  eat :  she  herself  stood  at  the  door,  watching 
the  brahmin's  coming.  And  while  the  lover  was  eating,  the 
Bodhisatta  stood  waiting  for  a  morsel. 

At  that  moment  the  brahmin  set  his  face  for  home. 
And  his  wife  saw  him  drawing  nigh,  and  ran  in  quickly- 
"Up,  my  man  is  coming!"  and  she  made  her  lover  go 
down  into  the  store-room.  The  husband  came  in ;  she  gave 
him  a  seat,  and  water  for  washing  the  hands ;  and  upon 
the  cold  rice  that  was  left  by  the  other  she  turned  out 
some  hot  rice,  and  set  it  before  him.  He  put  his  hand 
into  the  rice,  and  felt  that  it  was  hot  above  and  cold 
below.  "  This  must  be  some  one  else's  leavings,"  thought 
he ;  and  so  he  asked  the  woman  about  it  in  the  words 
of  the  first  stanza : 

Hot  at  top,  and  cold  at  bottom,  not  alike  it  seems  to  be: 
I  would  ask  you  for  the  reason :  come,  my  lady,  answer  me ! 

Again  and  again  he  asked,  but  she,  fearing  lest  her 
deed  should  be  discovered,  held  her  peace.  Then  a 
thought  came  into  our  tumbler's  mind.  "  The  man  down 
in  the  store-room  must  be  a  lover,  and  this  is  the  master 
of  the  house :  the  wife  says  nothing,  for  fear  that  her  deed 
be  made  manifest.  Soho !  I  will  declare  the  whole 
matter,  and  shew  the  brahmin  that  a  man  is  hidden  in 
his  larder."  And  he  told  him  the  whole  matter :  how  that 
when  he  had  gone  out  from  his  house,  another  had  come 
in,  and  had  done  evil ;  how  he  had  eaten  the  first  rice,  and 
the  wife  had  stood  by  the  door  to  watch  the  road ;  and 

F.  &T.  12 

178         THE   TORTOISE  AND   THE   GEESE 

how  the  other  man  had  been  hidden  in  the  store-room. 
And  in  so  saying,  he  repeated  the  second  stanza  : 

I  am  a  tumbler,  Sir:   I  came  on  begging-  here  intent; 

He  that  you  seek  is  hiding-  in  the  store-room,  where  he  went! 

By  his  top-knot  he  haled  the  man  out  of  the  store-room, 
and  bade  him  take  care  not  to  do  the  like  again ;  and  then 
he  went  away.  The  brahmin  rebuked  and  beat  them  both, 
and  gave  them  such  a  lesson  that  they  were  not  likely  to  do 
the  same  again.  Afterwards  he  passed  away  to  fare  ac- 
cording to  his  deserts. 

Cf.  Oldeuberg,  The  Akhyana  Type  and  the  Jdtakas,  JPTS.  1910-12  (=Nach- 
richten  cler  k.  Gesell.  der  Wiss.  zu  Gottingen,  1911),  for  a  discussion  of  this  as  a 
typical  form  of  jataka. 


Once  on  a  time  Brahmadatta  was  king  of  Benares,  and 
the  Bodhisatta,  being  born  to  one  of  the  king's  court,  grew 
up,  and  became  the  king's  adviser  in  all  things  human  and 
divine.  But  this  king  was  very  talkative;  and  when  he 
talked  there  was  no  chance  for  any  other  to  get  in  a  word. 
And  the  Bodhisatta,  wishing  to  put  a  stop  to  his  much 
talking,  kept  watching  for  an  opportunity. 

Now  there  dwelt  a  Tortoise  in  a  certain  pond  in  the 
region  of  Himalaya.  Two  young  wild  Geese,  searching  for 
food,  struck  up  an  acquaintance  with  him;  and  by  and 
by  they  grew  close  friends  together.  One  day  these  two 
said  to  him :  "  Friend  Tortoise,  we  have  a  lovely  home  in 
Himalaya,  on  a  plateau  of  Mount  Cittakuta,  in  a  cave  of 
gold  !  Will  you  come  with  us  ? ' 

"  Why,"  said  he,  "  how  can  I  get  there  ? " 

"  Oh,  we  will  take  you,  if  only  you  can  keep  your  mouth 
shut,  and  say  not  a  word  to  anybody." 

"  Yes,  I  can  do  that,"  said  he ;  "  take  me  along ! " 

THE   TORTOISE  AND   THE   GEESE         179 

So  they  made  the  Tortoise  hold  a  stick  between  his 
teeth:  and  themselves  taking  hold  of  the  two  ends,  they 
sprang  up  into  the  air. 

The  village  children  saw  this,  and  exclaimed — •"  There 
are  two  geese  carrying  a  tortoise  by  a  stick  ! " 

(By  this  time  the  geese  flying  swiftly  had  arrived  at  the 
space  above  the  palace  of  the  king  at  Benares.)  The 
Tortoise  wanted  to  cry  out — "  Well,  and  if  my  friends  do 
carry  me,  what  is  that  to  you,  you  caitiffs  ? '  -and  he  let 
go  the  stick  from  between  his  teeth,  and  falling  into  the 
open  courtyard  he  split  in  two.  What  an  uproar  there  was  ! 
"A  tortoise  has  fallen  in  the  courtyard,  and  broken  in 
two  ! "  they  cried.  The  king,  with  the  Bodhisatta,  and  all 
his  court,  came  up  to  the  place,  and  seeing  the  tortoise 
asked  the  Bodhisatta  a  question.  "  Wise  Sir,  what  made 
this  creature  fall  ? " 

"  Now's  my  time  ! "  thought  he.  "  For  a  long  while 
I  have  been  wishing  to  admonish  the  king,  and  I  have 
gone  about  seeking  my  opportunity.  No  doubt  the  truth 
is  this :  the  tortoise  and  the  geese  became  friendly ;  the 
geese  must  have  meant  to  carry  him  to  Himalaya,  and  so 
made  him  hold  a  stick  between  his  teeth,  and  then  lifted 
him  into  the  air ;  then  he  must  have  heard  some  remark, 
and  wanted  to  reply ;  and  not  being  able  to  keep  his 
mouth  shut  he  must  have  let  himself  go  ;  and  so  he  must 
have  fallen  from  the  sky  and  thus  come  by  his  death."  So 
thought  he  ;  and  addressed  the  king :  "  O  king,  they  that 
have  too  much  tongue,  that  set  no  limit  to  their  speaking, 
ever  come  to  such  misfortune  as  this  " ;  and  he  uttered  the 
following  verses : 

The  Tortoise  needs  must  speak  aloud, 

Although  between  his  teeth 
A  stick  he  bit:  yet,  spite  of  it, 

He  spoke — and  fell  beneath. 

1  9 O 

J.  w  — 


And  now,  0  mighty  master,  mark  it  well. 

See  thou  speak  wisely,  see  thou  speak  in  season. 
To  death  the  Tortoise  fell: 

He  talked  too  much:  that  was  the  reason. 

"He  is  speaking  of  me  ! "  the  king  thought  to  himself; 
and  asked  the  Bodhisatta  if  it  was  so. 

"  Be  it  you,  O  great  king,  or  be  it  another,"  replied  he, 
"  whosoever  talks  beyond  measure  comes  by  some  misery 
of  this  kind  "  ;  and  so  he  made  the  thing  manifest.  And 
thenceforward  the  king  abstained  from  talking,  and  became 
a  man  of  few  words. 

P.  (T.)  i.  11,  (B.)  i.  13,  Som.  LX.  168  (ii.  37),  K.  D.  (Syr.)  i.  11,  (Arab.)  v.,  Julien  14, 
Dods.  n.  11,  The  Tortoise  and  two  Ducks.  Cf.  Babr.  115,  Halm  419,  the  fable  of 
the  tortoise  that  wishes  to  learn  to  fly,  and  is  taken  up  by  an  eagle,  who  drops  him 
on  the  rocks  and  kills  him.  In  Phaedr.  n.  6  the  eagle  on  the  advice  of  the  raven 
intends  to  kill  him.  Jacobs  60. 


Once  upon  a  time,  while  Brahmadatta  was  king  of 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  came  into  this  world  as  the  son  of 
one  in  the  king's  court.  When  he  grew  up  he  was  made  a 
Lord  Justice. 

At  that  time,  two  traders,  one  from  a  village  and  one 
of  the  town,  were  friends  together.  The  villager  deposited 
with  the  townsman  five  hundred  ploughshares.  The  other 
sold  these,  and  kept  the  price,  and  in  the  place  where 
they  were  he  scattered  mouse  dung.  By  and  by  came 
the  villager,  and  asked  for  his  ploughshare.  "  The  mice 
have  eaten  them  up1!"  said  the  cheat,  and  pointed  out 
the  mouse  dung  to  him. 

1  Things  gnawed  by  mice  or  rats  were  unlucky;  cp.  Jat.  87  (vol.  I.  p.  215),  Tevijja- 
Sutta  Mafidsllam  i  (trans,  in  S.B.E.,  Buddhist  Suttas,  p.  196).  The  man  here 
goes  further  than  he  need  ;  if  the  mice  had  but  nibbled  the  ploughshares  perhaps  he 


"  Well,  well,  so  be  it,"  replied  the  other :  "  what  can  be 
done  with  things  which  the  mice  have  eaten  ? ' 

Now  at  the  time  of  bathing  he  took  the  other  trader's 
son,  and  set  him  in  a  friend's  house,  in  an  inner  chamber, 
bidding  them  not  suffer  him  to  go  out  any  whither.  And 
having  washed  himself  he  went  to  his  friend's  house. 

"  Where  is  my  son  ? "  asked  the  cheat. 

"Dear  friend,"  he  replied,  "I  took  him  with  me  and 
left  him  on  the  river-side ;  and  when  I  was  gone  down 
into  the  water,  there  came  an  osprey,  and  seized  your  son 
in  his  extended  claws,  and  flew  up  into  the  air.  I  beat 
the  water,  shouted,  struggled — but  could  not  make  him 
let  go." 

"  Lies  ! "  cried  the  rogue.  "  No  osprey  could  carry  off 
a  boy ! " 

"  Let  be,  dear  friend :  if  things  happen  that  should  not, 
how  can  I  help  it  ?  Your  son  has  been  carried  off  by  an 
osprey,  as  I  say." 

The  other  reviled  him.  "  Ah,  you  scoundrel !  you 
murderer!  Now  I  will  go  to  the  judge,  and  have  you 
dragged  before  him ! "  And  he  departed.  The  villager 
said,  "As  you  please,"  and  went  to  the  court  of  justice. 
The  rogue  addressed  the  Bodhisatta  thus: 

"  My  lord,  this  fellow  took  my  son  with  him  to  bathe, 
and  when  I  asked  where  he  was,  he  answered,  that  an 
osprey  had  carried  him  oif.  Judge  my  cause ! " 

"  Tell  the  truth,"  said  the  Bodhisatta,  asking  the  other. 

"  Indeed,  my  lord,"  he  answered,  "  I  took  him  with  me, 
and  a  hawk  has  carried  him  off." 

might  throw  them  away. — We  may  also  have  a  reference  -to  an  old  proverb,  found 
both  in  Greek  and  Latin:  "where  mice  eat  iron"  meant  "nowhere."  Herondas 
3.  75  ov8'  OKU>S  XtopiJ?  ol  pvs  oy.oia>s  rov  (riSrjpov  rpcoyovcriv.  Seneca,  Apocolocyntosis 
chap.  7  (to  Claudius  in  heaven)  venisti  hue  ubi  mures  ferrum  rodunt.  (Dr  Rouse.) 


"  But  where  in  the  world  are  there  ospreys  which  carry 
off  boys  ? " 

"  My  lord,"  he  answered,  "  I  have  a  question  to  ask  you. 
If  ospreys  cannot  carry  off  boys  into  the  air,  can  mice 
eat  iron  ploughshares  ? " 

"  What  do  vou  mean  bv  that  ?  " 

•/  V 

"  My  lord,  I  deposited  in  this  man's  house  five  hundred 
ploughshares.  The  man  told  me  that  the  mice  had  de- 
voured them,  and  shewed  me  the  droppings  of  the  mice 
that  had  done  it.  My  lord,  if  mice  eat  ploughshares,  then 
ospreys  carry  off  boys  :  but  if  mice  cannot  do  this,  neither 
will  hawks  carry  the  boy  off.  This  man  says  the  mice  ate 
my  ploughshares.  Give  sentence  whether  they  are  eaten 
or  no.  Judge  my  cause  ! " 

"He  must  have  meant,"  thought  the  Bodhisatta,  "to 
fight  the  trickster  with  his  own  weapons. — Well  devised  ! " 
said  he,  and  then  he  uttered  these  two  verses : 

Well  planned  indeed!    The  biter  bit, 
The  trickster  tricked — a  pretty  hit! 
If  mice  can  eat  a  ploughshare,  why, 
Ospreys  away  with  boys  can  fly! 

A  rogue  out-rogued  with  tit  for  tat! 
Give  back  the  plough,  and  after  that 
Perhaps  the  man  who  lost  the  plough 
M;iy  give  your  son  back  to  you  now!1 

Thus  he  that  had  lost  his  son  received  him  again,  and 
he  received  his  ploughshare  that  had  lost  it ;  and  after- 
wards both  passed  away  to  fare  according  to  their  deeds. 

P.  (T.)  i.  17,  (B.)  i.  21,  Som.  LX.  237  (ii.  41),  Suk.  xxxix.  There  is  confusion 
throughout  the  story  as  to  the  number  of  the  ploughshares.  The  singular,  which 
occurs  in  the  stanza,  is  probably  original.  The  confusion  may  have  arisen  through 
an  expression  denoting  the  weight.  In  P.  it  is  a  balance  weighing  100  pounds. 
There  is  a  similar  confusion  between  hawks  and  ospreys  as  in  Jat.  330,  p.  238. 

1  A  like  repartee  is  found  in  North  Ind.  N.  and  Q.  iii.  214  ( The  Judgement  of  the 
Jackal} ;  Swynnerton,  Ind.  Nights'  Entertainment,  p.  142  ( The  Traveller  and  the  Oil- 
man} ;  and  a  story  of  an  oilman  in  Sturnme's  Tunisische  Mdrchen,  vol.  ii.  (Dr  Rouse.) 


Once  upon  a  time  reigned  at  Benares  a  king  named 
Yasapani,  the  Glorious.  His  chief  captain  was  named 
Kalaka,  or  Blackie.  At  that  time  the  Bodhisatta  was  his 
family  priest,  and  had  the  name  of  Dhammaddhaja,  the 
Banner  of  the  Faith.  There  was  also  a  man  Chattapani, 
maker  of  ornaments  to  the  king.  The  king  was  a  good 
king.  But  his  chief  captain  swallowed  bribes  in  the 
judging  of  causes;  he  was  a  backbiter;  he  took  bribes, 
and  defrauded  the  rightful  owners. 

On  a  day,  one  who  had  lost  his  suit  was  departing  from 
the  court,  weeping  and  stretching  out  his  arms,  wrhen  he 
fell  in  with  the  Bodhisatta  as  he  was  going  to  pay  his 
service  to  the  king.  Falling  at  his  feet,  the  man  cried  out, 
telling  how  he  had  been  worsted  in  his  cause :  "  Although 
such  as  you,  my  lord,  instruct  the  king  in  the  things  of  this 
world  and  the  next,  the  Commander-in-Chief  takes  bribes, 
and  defrauds  rightful  owners ! " 

The  Bodhisatta  pitied  him.  "  Come,  my  good  fellow,'' 
said  he,  "  I  will  judge  your  cause  for  you ! "  and  he  pro- 
ceeded to  the  court-house.  A  great  company  gathered 
together.  The  Bodhisatta  reversed  the  sentence,  and 
gave  judgment  for  him  that  had  the  right.  The  spectators 
applauded.  The  sound  was  great.  The  king  heard  it, 
and  asked — "What  sound  is  this  I  hear?" 

"  My  lord  king,"  they  answered,  "  it  is  a  cause  wrongly 
judged  that  has  been  judged  aright  by  the  wise  Dham- 
maddhaja ;  that  is  why  there  is  this  shout  of  applause." 

The  king  was  pleased  and  sent  for  the  Bodhisatta. 
"  They  tell  me,"  he  began,  "  that  you  have  judged  a 
cause  ? " 

184  THE   HERO'S   TASKS 

"Yes,  great  king,  I  have  judged  that  which  Kalaka 
did  not  judge  aright." 

"Be  you  judge  from  this  day,"  said  the  king;  "it  will 
be  a  joy  for  my  ears,  and  prosperity  for  the  world ! " 
He  was  unwilling,  but  the  king  begged  him — •"  In  mercy 
to  all  creatures,  sit  you  in  judgment ! "  and  so  the  king- 
won  his  consent. 

From  that  time  Kalaka  received  no  presents;  and 
losing  his  gains  he  spoke  calumny  of  the  Bodhisatta  before 
the  king,  saying,  "  O  mighty  king,  the  Avise  Dhammaddhaja 
covets  your  kingdom  ! "  But  the  king  would  not  believe ; 
and  bade  him  sav  not  so. 


"  If  you  do  not  believe  me,"  said  Kalaka,  "  look  out 
of  the  window  at  the  time  of  his  coming.  Then  you 
will  see  that  he  has  got  the  whole  city  into  his  own 

The  king  saw  the  crowd  of  those  that  were  about  him 
in  his  judgment  hall.  "  There  is  his  retinue,"  thought  he. 
He  gave  way.  "  What  are  we  to  do,  Captain  ? "  he  asked. 

"  My  lord,  he  must  be  put  to  death." 

"  How  can  we  put  him  to  death  without  having  found 
him  out  in  some  great  wickedness  ? " 

"  There  is  a  way,"  said  the  other. 

"  What  way  ? " 

"  Tell  him  to  do  what  is  impossible,  and  if  he  cannot, 
put  him  to  death  for  that." 

"  But  what  is  impossible  to  him  ? " 

"  My  lord  king,"  replied  he,  "  it  takes  two  years  or  twice 
two  for  a  garden  with  good  soil  to  bear  fruit,  being 
planted  and  tended.  Send  for  him,  and  say — '  We  want 
a  garden  to  disport  ourselves  in  to-morrow.  Make  us  a 
garden  ! '  This  he  will  not  be  able  to  do ;  and  we  will  slay 
him  for  that  fault." 

THE   HERO'S   TASKS  185 

The  king  addressed  himself  to  the  Bodhisatta.  "  Wise 
Sir,  we  have  sported  long  enough  in  our  old  garden  ;  now 
we  crave  to  sport  in  a  new.  We  shall  sport  to-morrow. 
Make  us  a  garden  !  If  you  cannot  make  it,  you  must  die." 

The  Bodhisatta  reasoned,  "  It  must  be  that  Kalaka  has 
set  the  king  against  me,  because  he  gets  no  presents.- 
If  I  can,"  he  said  to  the  king,  "  O  mighty  king,  I  will  see 
to  it."  And  he  went  home.  After  a  good  meal  he  lay 
upon  his  bed,  thinking.  Sakka's  palace  grew  hot1.  Sakka 
reflecting  perceived  the  Bodhisatta's  difficulty.  He  made 
haste  to  him,  entered  his  chamber,  and  asked  him — "Wise 
Sir,  what  think  you  on  ? '  -poised  the  while  in  mid-air. 

"  Who  are  you  ? "  asked  the  Bodhisatta. 

"  I  am  Sakka." 

1  This  was  supposed  to  happen  when  a  good  man  was  in  straits.  Some  modern 
superstitions,  turning  upon  the  pity  of  a  god  for  creatures  in  pain,  may  be  seen  in 
North  Ind.  N.  and  Q.  iii.  285.  As  this :  "  Hot  oil  is  poured  into  a  dog's  ear  and  the 
pain  makes  him  yell.  It  is  believed  that  his  yells  are  heard  by  Raja  Indra,  who  in 
pity  stops  the  rain."  (Dr  Rouse.) 

In  brahmin  works  Indra  (Sakka)  is  represented  as  becoming  disturbed,  when  he 
sees  mortals  practising  severe  penance,  or  performing  great  sacrifices,  because  he 
fears  that  the  person  may  acquire  merit  enough  to  take  his  place.  In  such  cases 
he  comes  down  and  tempts  the  ascetic  with  sensual  pleasures  or  hinders  the 
sacrifice.  This  idea  is  retained  by  the  Buddhists,  but  the  more  characteristic  motive 
in  buddhism  is  that  the  god  comes  down  to  help  the  person  who  is  in  difficulty,  as 
here,  or  to  test  him  by  giving  him  an  opportunity  of  performing  an  act  of  merit,  as 
in  Jat.  316,  499.  In  the  jatakas  the  person's  merit  causes  Sakka's  throne  to  become 
hot,  or  his  palace  to  be  shaken  (Jat.  292).  In  Burmese  tales  his  throne  becomes 
stiff.  See  L.  Allan  Goss  in  We-than-da-ya,  a  Buddhist  Legend,  p.  93,  Rangoon, 
1895.  There  is  a  curious  parallel  in  the  story  of  St  Martin  of  Tours,  given  by 
Sulpicius  Severus  in  his  Dialogues  n.  5,  where  St  Martin  visits  the  emperor  Valen- 
tinian,  who  does  not  wish  to  see  him.  The  seat  of  the  emperor  bursts  into  flames, 
and  he  is  compelled  to  get  up  and  listen  to  the  saint.  "  Nequaquam  adsurgere  est 
dignatus  adstanti,  donee  regiam  sellam  ignis  operiret,  ipsumque  regem  ea  parte 
corporis  qua  sedebat,  adflaret  incendium.  Ita  e  solio  suo  superbus  excutitur  et 
Martino  invitus  adsurgit."  The  Dialogues  contain  tales  of  Egyptian  monks  which 
have  a  buddhistic  colouring.  In  Jat.  527  the  incident  of  St  Martin  dividing  his 
cloak  is  paralleled,  where  a  girl,  having  worked  for  three  years  to  earn  a  scarlet 
robe,  divides  it,  and  gives  half  to  an  ascetic,  who  had  been  robbed  of  his  clothes. 

186  THE   HERO'S   TASKS 

"  The  king  bids  me  make  a  garden :  that  is  what  I  am 
thinking  upon." 

"  Wise  Sir,  do  not  trouble :  I  will  make  you  a  garden 
like  the  groves  of  Nandana  and  Cittalata !  In  what  place 
shall  I  make  it?" 

"  In  such  and  such  a  place,"  he  told  him.  Sakka  made 
it,  and  returned  to  the  city  of  the  gods. 

Next  day,  the  Bodhisatta  beheld  the  garden  there  in 
very  truth,  and  sought  the  king's  presence.  "  O  king,  the 
garden  is  ready :  go  to  your  sport ! '' 

The  king  came  to  the  place,  and  beheld  a  garden  girt 
with  a  fence  of  eighteen  cubits,  vermilion  tinted,  having 
gates  and  ponds,  beautiful  with  all  manner  of  trees,  laden 
heavy  with  flowers  and  fruit!  "The  sage  has  done  my 
bidding,"  said  he  to  Kalaka :  "  now  what  are  we  to  do  ? " 

"  O  mighty  king ! "  replied  he,  "  if  he  can  make  a 
garden  in  one  night,  can  he  not  seize  upon  your  king- 
dom ? ' 

"Well,  what  are  we  to  do?" 

"  We  will  make  him  perform  another  impossible  thing." 

"What  is  that?"  asked  the  king. 

"  We  will  bid  him  make  a  lake  possessed  of  the  seven 
precious  jewels ! " 

The  king  agreed,  and  thus  addressed  the  Bodhisatta : 

"  Teacher,  you  have  made  a  park.  Make  now  a  lake  to 
match  it,  with  the  seven  precious  jewels.  If  you  cannot 
make  it,  you  shall  not  live ! " 

"Very  good,  great  king,"  answered  the  Bodhisatta, 
"  I  will  make  it  if  I  can." 

Then  Sakka  made  a  lake  of  great  splendour,  having 
an  hundred  landing-places,  a  thousand  inlets,  covered  over 
with  lotus  plants  of  five  different  colours,  like  the  lake  in 

THE   HERO'S   TASKS  187 

Next  day,  the  Bodhisatta  beheld  this  also,  and  told  the 
king :  "  See,  the  lake  is  made ! "  And  the  king  saw  it,  and 
asked  of  Kalaka  what  was  to  be  done. 

"  Bid  him,  my  lord,  make  a  house  to  suit  it,"  said  he. 

"  Make  a  house,  Teacher,"  said  the  king  to  the  Bodhi- 
satta, "  all  of  ivory,  to  suit  with  the  park  and  the  lake :  it 
you  do  not  make  it,  you  must  die  ! " 

Then  Sakka  made  him  a  house  likewise.  The  Bodhi- 
satta beheld  it  next  day,  and  told  the  king.  When  the 
king  had  seen  it,  he  asked  Kalaka  again,  what  was  to  do. 
Kalaka  told  him  to  bid  the  Bodhisatta  make  a  jewel 
to  suit  the  house.  The  king  said  to  him,  "Wise  Sir, 
make  a  jewel  to  suit  with  this  ivory  house ;  I  will 
go  about  looking  at  it  by  the  light  of  the  jewel :  if  you 
cannot  make  one,  you  must  die ! "  Then  Sakka  made  him 
a  jewel  too.  Next  day  the  Bodhisatta  beheld  it,  and  told  the 
king.  When  the  king  had  seen  it,  he  again  asked  Kalaka 
what  was  to  be  done. 

"  Mighty  king !  "  answered  he,  "  I  think  there  is  some 
divinity  who  does  each  thing  that  the  Brahmin  Dham- 
maddhaja  wishes.  Now  bid  him  make  something  which 
even  a  divinity  cannot  make.  Not  even  a  deity  can  make 
a  man  with  all  four  virtues ;  therefore  bid  him  make  a 
keeper  with  these  four."  So  the  king  said,  "Teacher,  you 
have  made  a  park,  a  lake,  and  a  palace,  and  a  jewel 
to  give  light.  Now  make  me  a  keeper  with  four  virtues, 
to  watch  the  park ;  if  you  cannot,  you  must  die." 

"So  be  it,"  answered  he,  "if  it  is  possible,  I  will  see 
to  it."  He  went  home,  had  a  good  meal,  and  lay  down. 
When  he  awoke  in  the  morning,  he  sat  upon  his  bed,  and 
thought  thus.  "  What  the  great  king  Sakka  can  make  by 
his  power,  that  he  has  made.  He  cannot  make  a  park- 
keeper  with  four  virtues.  This  being  so,  it  is  better  to 

188  THE   HERO'S   TASKS 

die  forlorn  in  the  woods,  than  to  die  at  the  hand  of  other 
men."  So  saying  no  word  to  any  man,  he  went  down  from 
his  dwelling  and  passed  out  of  the  city  by  the  chief  gate, 
and  entered  the  woods,  where  he  sat  him  down  beneath  a 
tree  and  reflected  upon  the  religion  of  the  good.  Sakka 
perceived  it ;  and  in  the  fashion  of  a  forester  he  approached 
the  Bodhisatta,  saying, 

"Brahmin,  you  are  young  and  tender:  why  sit  you 
here  in  this  wood,  as  though  you  had  never  seen  pain 
before?"  As  he  asked  it,  he  repeated  the  first  stanza: 

You  look  as  though  your  life  must  happy  be; 
Yet  to  the  wild  woods  you  would  homeless  go, 
Like  some  poor  wretch  whose  life  was  misery, 
And  pine  beneath  this  tree  in  lonely  woe. 

To  this  the  Bodhisatta  made  answer  in  the  second 
stanza : 

I  look  as  though  my  life  must  happy  be; 
Yet  to  the  wild  woods  I  would  homeless  go, 
Like  some  poor  wTetch  whose  life  was  misery, 
And  pine  beneath  this  tree  in  lonely  woe, 
Pondering  the  truth  that  all  the  saints  do  know. 

Then  Sakka  said,  "  If  so,  then  why,  Brahmin,  are  you 
sitting  here  ? " 

"  The  king,"  he  made  answer,  "  requires  a  park-keeper 
with  four  good  qualities ;  such  an  one  cannot  be  found ; 
so  I  thought — Why  perish  by  the  hand  of  man  ?  I  will  off 
to  the  woods,  and  die  a  lonely  death.  So  here  I  came,  and 
here  I  sit." 

Then  the  other  replied,  "  Brahmin,  I  am  Sakka,  king  of 
the  gods.  By  me  was  your  park  made,  and  those  other 
things.  A  park-keeper  possessed  of  four  virtues  cannot 
be  made ;  but  in  your  country  there  is  one  Chattapani, 
who  makes  ornaments  for  the  head,  and  he  is  such  a 
man.  If  a  park-keeper  is  wanted,  go  and  make  this 

THE   HERO'S   TASKS  189 

workman  the  keeper."  With  these  words  Sakka  de- 
parted to  his  city  divine,  after  consoling  him  and  bidding 
him  fear  no  more. 

The  Bodhisatta  went  home,  and  having  broken  his  fast, 
he  repaired  to  the  palace  gates,  and  there  in  that  spot  he 
saw  Chattapani.  He  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  asked 
him — "  Is  it  true,  as  I  hear,  Chattapani,  that  you  are  en- 
dowed with  the  four  virtues  ? " 

"  Who  told  you  so  ? "  asked  the  other. 

"  Sakka,  king  of  the  gods." 

"  Why  did  he  tell  you  ? "  He  recounted  all,  and  told 
the  reason.  The  other  said, 

"  Yes,  I  am  endowed  with  the  four  virtues."  The  Bod- 
hisatta taking  him  by  the  hand  led  him  into  the  king's 
presence.  "  Here,  mighty  monarch,  is  Chattapani,  endowed 
with  four  virtues.  If  there  is  need  of  a  keeper  for  the 
park,  make  him  keeper." 

"  Is  it  true,  as  I  hear,"  the  king  asked  him,  "  that  you 
have  four  virtues  ? " 

"  Yes,  mighty  king." 

"What  are  they?"  he  asked. 

I  envy  not,  and  drink  no  wine; 
No  strong1  desire,  no  wrath  is  mine, 
said  he. 

"Chattapani,"  cried  the  king,  "did  you  say  you  have 
no  envy?" 

"Yes,  O  king,  I  have  no  envy." 

"  What  experience  was  it  that  made  you  to  be  without 
envy  ? " 

"  Listen,  my  lord ! "  said  he  ;  and  then  he  told  him  why 
he  felt  no  envy  in  the  following  lines1 : 

1  In  the  verses  he  refers  to  his  virtuous  action  when  he  was  king  in  Jat.  120. 
After  wrongly  suspecting  his  family  priest  he  releases  him  and  all  his  guilty  slaves,  and 
forgives  his  queen  who  had  been  the  cause.  See  note  on  The  Wicked  Stepmother. 


A  chaplain  once  in  bonds  I  threw— 
Which  thing  a  woman  made  me  do; 
He  built  me  up  in  holy  lore; 
Since  when  I  never  envied  more. 

Then  the  king  said,  "  Dear  Chattapani,  what  has  made 
you  to  abstain  from  strong  drink  ?  And  the  other  answered 
in  the  following  verse l : 

Once  I  was  drunken,  and  I  ate 
My  own  son's  flesh  upon  my  plate; 
Then,  touched  with  sorrow  and  with  pain, 
Swore  never  to  touch  drink  again. 

Then  the  king  said,  "  But  what  has  made  you  to  be 
indifferent,  without  love  ? "  The  man  explained  it  in  these 
wrords2 : 

King  Kitavasa  was  my  name; 

A  mighty  king  was  I; 
My  boy  a  Buddha's  basin  broke 

And  so  he  had  to  die. 

Said  the  king  then,  "What  was  it,  good  friend,  that 
made  you  to  be  without  anger  ? "  And  the  other  made  the 
matter  clear  in  these  lines : 

As  Araka,  for  seven  years 

I  practised  charity; 
And  then  for  seven  ages  dwelt 

In  Brahma's  heaven  on  high. 

When  Chattapani  had  thus  explained  his  four  attri- 
butes, the  king  made  a  sign  to  his  attendants.  And  in  an 
instant  all  the  court,  priests  and  laymen  and  all,  rose  up, 
and  cried  out  upon  Kalaka — "  Fie,  bribe-swallowing  thief 
and  scoundrel !  You  couldn't  get  your  bribes,  and  so 
you  would  murder  the  wise  man  by  speaking  ill  of  him ! " 
They  seized  him  by  hand  and  foot,  and  bundled  him  out 

1  The  commentary  explains  that  this  happened  in  his  birth  as  king  of  Benares. 
'*•  The  boy  broke  the  basin  of  a  pacceka-buddha,  and  as  his  sin  bore  fruit  at  once 
he  burst  into  flame  and  perished. 


of  the  palace ;  and  catching  up  whatever  they  could  get 
hold  of,  this  a  stone,  and  this  a  staff',  they  broke  his  head 
and  did  him  to  death :  and  dragging  him  by  the  feet  they 
cast  him  upon  a  dunghill. 

Thenceforward  the  king  ruled  in  righteousness,  until 
he  passed  away  according  to  his  deserts. 

A  form  of  the  Hero's  Tasks.     Cf.  Grimm  29,  Anm.     A.  Lang,  Custom  and  Myth 
( a  far-  travelled  Tale}. 


Once  upon  a  time  reigned  at  Benares  a  wicked  and 
unjust  king  named  Maha-pingala,  the  Great  Yellow  King, 
who  did  sinfully  after  his  own  will  and  pleasure.  With 
taxes  and  fines,  and  many  mutilations  and  robberies,  he 
crushed  the  folk  as  it  were  sugar-cane  in  a  mill ;  he  was 
cruel,  fierce,  ferocious.  For  other  people  he  had  not  a 
grain  of  pity;  at  home  he  was  harsh  and  implacable 
towards  his  wives,  his  sons  and  daughters,  to  his  brahmin 
courtiers  and  the  householders  of  the  country.  He  was 
like  a  speck  of  dust  that  falls  in  the  eye,  like  gravel  in  the 
broth,  like  a  thorn  sticking  in  the  heel. 

Now7  the  Bodhisatta  was  a  son  of  king  Maha-pingala. 
After  this  king  had  reigned  for  a  long  time,  he  died. 
When  he  died  all  the  citizens  of  Benares  were  overjoyed 
and  laughed  a  great  laugh ;  they  burnt  his  body  with  a 
thousand  cartloads  of  logs,  and  quenched  the  place  of 
burning  with  thousands  of  jars  of  water,  and  consecrated 
the  Bodhisatta  to  be  king:  they  caused  a  drum  of  re- 
joicing to  beat  about  the  streets,  for  joy  that  they  had  got 
them  a  righteous  king.  They  raised  flags  and  banners, 
and  decked  out  the  city ;  at  every  door  was  set  a  pavilion, 

192       DEFEATING   THE   KING   OF    DEATH 

and  scattering  parched  corn  and  flowers,  they  sat  them 
down  upon  the  decorated  platforms  under  fine  canopies, 
and  did  eat  and  drink.  The  Bodhisatta  himself  sat  upon 
a  fine  divan  on  a  great  raised  dais,  in  great  magnificence, 
with  a  white  parasol  stretched  above  him.  The  courtiers 
and  householders,  the  citizens  and  the  doorkeepers  stood 
around  their  king. 

But  one  doorkeeper,  standing  not  far  from  the  king, 
was  sighing  and  sobbing.  "  Good  Porter,"  said  the  Bodhi- 
satta, observing  him,  "  all  the  people  are  making  merry 
for  joy  that  my  father  is  dead,  but  you  stand  weeping. 
Come,  was  my  father  good  and  kind  to  you  ? "  And  with 
the  question  he  uttered  the  first  stanza : 

The  Yellow  King  was  cruel  to  all  men; 

Now  he  is  dead,  all  freely  breathe  again. 

Was  he,  the  yellow-eyed,  so  very  dear? 

Or,  Porter,  why  do  you  stand  weeping  here  ? 

The  man  heard,  and  answered  :  "  I  am  not  weeping  for 
sorrow  that  Pingala  is  dead.  My  head  would  be  glad 
enough.  For  King  Pingala,  every  time  he  came  down 
from  the  palace,  or  went  up  into  it,  would  give  me  eight 
blows  over  the  head  with  his  fist,  like  the  blows  of  a  black- 
smith's hammer.  So  when  he  goes  down  to  the  other 
world,  he  will  deal  eight  blows  on  the  head  of  Yama,  the 
gatekeeper  of  hell,  as  though  he  were  striking  me.  Then 
the  people  will  cry — He  is  too  cruel  for  us  !  and  will  send 
him  up  again.  And  I  fear  he  will  come  and  deal  fisticuffs 
on  my  head  again,  and  that  is  why  I  weep/'  To  explain 
the  matter  he  uttered  the  second  stanza : 

The  Yellow  King  was  anything  but  dear: 

It  is  his  coming  back  again  I  fear. 

What  if  he  beat  the  king  of  Death,  and  then 

The  king  of  Death  should  send  him  back  again  ? 

Then  said  the  Bodhisatta :  "  That  king  has  been  burnt 


with  a  thousand  cartloads  of  wood ;  the  place  of  his 
burning  has  been  soaked  with  water  from  thousands  of 
pitchers,  and  the  ground  has  been  dug  up  all  round;  beings 
that  have  gone  to  the  other  world,  otherwise  than  by 
re-birth,  do  not  return  to  the  same  bodily  shape  as  they 
had  before ;  do  not  be  afraid ! "  and  to  comfort  him,  he 
repeated  the  following  stanza : 

Thousands  of  loads  of  wood  have  burnt  him  quite, 
Thousands  of  pitchers  quenched  what  still  did  burn; 
The  earth  is  dug  about  to  left  and  right- 
Fear  not — the  king  will  never  more  return. 

After  that,  the  porter  took  comfort.  And  the  Bodhi- 
satta  ruled  in  righteousness ;  and  after  giving  gifts  and 
doing  other  good  acts,  he  passed  away  to  fare  according 
to  his  deserts. 

For  tales  of  overcoming  the  King  of  Death  and  striking  terror  into  the  Devil, 
cf.  Clouston,  i.  385  ff. 


Once  upon  a  time,  Brahmadatta  was  king  of  Benares, 
and  the  Bodhisatta  was  his  family  priest;  and  he  had 
mastered  the  three  Vedas  and  the  eighteen  branches  of 
knowledge.  He  knew  the  spell  entitled  *  Of  subduing  the 
World.'  (Now  this  spell  is  one  which  involves  religious 

One  day,  the  Bodhisatta  thought  that  he  would  recite 
this  spell ;  so  he  sat  down  in  a  place  apart  upon  a  flat  stone, 
and  there  went  through  his  reciting  of  it.  It  is  said  that 
this  spell  could  be  taught  to  no  one  without  use  of  a 
special  rite ;  for  which  reason  he  recited  it  in  the  place 
just  described.  It  so  happened  that  a  Jackal  lying  in  a 

F.  &.  T.  13 


hole  heard  the  spell  at  the  time  that  he  was  reciting  it, 
and  got  it  by  heart.  We  are  told  that  this  jackal  in  a 
previous  existence  had  been  some  brahmin  who  had  learnt 
the  charm  *  Of  subduing  the  World.' 

The  Bodhisatta  ended  his  recitation,  and  rose  up, 
saying — "Surely  I  have  that  spell  by  heart  now."  Then 
the  Jackal  arose  out  of  his  hole,  and  cried — "  Ho,  brahmin  ! 
I  have  learnt  the  spell  better  than  you  know  it  yourself!" 
and  off  he  ran.  The  Bodhisatta  set  off  in  chase,  and 
followed  some  way,  crying — "  Yon  jackal  will  do  a  great 
mischief — catch  him,  catch  him ! M  But  the  jackal  got 
clear  off  into  the  forest. 

The  Jackal  found  a  she-jackal,  and  gave  her  a  little 
nip  upon  the  body.  "What  is  it,  master?"  she  asked. 
" Do  you  know  me,"  he  asked,  " or  do  you  not ? '  "I  do 
not  know  you."  He  repeated  the  spell,  and  thus  had 
under  his  orders  several  hundreds  of  jackals,  and  gathered 
round  him  all  the  elephants  and  horses,  lions  and  tigers, 
swine  and  deer,  and  all  other  fourfooted  creatures;  and 
their  king  he  became,  under  the  title  of  Sabbadatha,  or 
Alltusk,  and  a  she-jackal  he  made  his  consort,  On  the 
back  of  two  elephants  stood  a  lion,  and  on  the  lion's  back 
sat  Sabbadatha,  the  jackal  king,  along  with  his  consort  the 
she-jackal ;  and  great  honour  was  paid  to  them. 

Now  the  Jackal  was  tempted  by  his  great  honour,  and 
became  puffed  up  with  pride,  and  he  resolved  to  capture 
the  kingdom  of  Benares.  So  with  all  the  fourfooted 
creatures  in  his  train,  he  came  to  a  place  near  to 
Benares.  His  host  covered  twelve  leagues  of  ground. 
From  his  position  there  he  sent  a  message  to  the  king, 
"  Give  up  your  kingdom,  or  fight  for  it."  The  citizens  of 
Benares,  smitten  with  terror,  shut  close  their  gates  and 
stayed  within. 


Then  the  Bodhisatta  drew  near  the  king,  and  said  to 
him,  "  Fear  not,  mighty  king !  leave  me  the  task  of  fighting 
with  the  jackal  king,  Sabbadatha.  Except  only  me,  no 
one  is  able  to  fight  with  him  at  all."  Thus  he  gave  heart 
to  the  king  and  the  citizens.  "  I  will  ask  him  at  once,"  he 
went  on,  "  what  he  will  do  in  order  to  take  the  city."  So 
he  mounted  the  tower  over  one  of  the  gates,  and  cried 
out — "  Sabbadatha,  what  will  you  do  to  get  possession  of 
this  realm  ? ' 

"I  will  cause  the  lions  to  roar,  and  with  the  roaring 
I  will  frighten  the  multitude :  thus  will  I  take  it ! " 

"Oh,  that's  it,"  thought  the  Bodhisatta,  and  down  he 
came  from  the  tower.  He  made  proclamation  by  beat  of 
drum  that  all  the  dwellers  in  the  great  city  of  Benares, 
over  all  its  twelve  leagues,  must  stop  up  their  ears  with 
flour.  The  multitude  heard  the  command ;  they  stopped 
up  their  own  ears  with  flour,  so  that  they  could  not  hear 
each  other  speak : — nay,  they  even  did  the  same  to  all  their 
animals  down  to  the  cats. 

Then  the  Bodhisatta  went  up  a  second  time  into  the 
tower,  and  cried  out  "  Sabbadatha ! " 

"  What  is  it,  Brahmin  ? "  quoth  he. 

"  How  will  you  take  this  realm  ? "  he  asked. 

"I  will  cause  the  lions  to  roar,  and  I  will  frighten 
the  people,  and  destroy  them;  thus  will  I  take  it!"  he 

"You  will  not  be  able  to  make  the  lions  roar;  these 
noble  lions,  with  their  tawny  paws  and  shaggy  manes,  will 
never  do  the  bidding  of  an  old  jackal  like  you ! " 

The  jackal,  stubborn  with  pride,  answered,  "  Not  only 
will  the  other  lions  obey  me,  but  I'll  make  this  one,  upon 
whose  back  I  sit,  roar  alone  !  " 

"  Very  well,"  said  the  Bodhisatta,  "  do  it  if  you  can." 



So  he  tapped  with  his  foot  on  the  lion  which  he  sat 
upon,  to  roar.  And  the  lion  resting  his  mouth  upon  the 
Elephant's  temple,  roared  thrice,  without  any  manner  of 
doubt.  The  elephants  were  terrified  and  dropped  the 
Jackal  down  at  their  feet ;  they  trampled  upon  his  head 
and  crushed  it  to  atoms.  Then  and  there  Sabbadatha 
perished.  And  the  elephants,  hearing  the  roar  of  the 
lion,  were  frightened  to  death,  and  wounding  one  another, 
they  all  perished  there.  The  rest  of  the  creatures,  deer 
and  swine,  down  to  the  hares  and  cats,  perished  then  and 
there,  all  except  the  lions ;  and  these  ran  off  and  took 
to  the  woods.  There  was  a  heap  of  carcasses  covering 
the  ground  for  twelve  leagues. 

The  Bodhisatta  came  down  from  the  tower,  and  had 
the  gates  of  the  city  thrown  open.  By  beat  of  drum  he 
caused  proclamation  to  be  made  throughout  the  city: 
"  Let  all  the  people  take  the  flour  from  out  of  their  ears, 
and  they  that  desire  meat,  meat  let  them  take ! "  The 
people  all  ate  what  meat  they  could  fresh,  and  the  rest 
they  dried  and  preserved. 

It  was  at  this  time,  according  to  tradition,  that  people 
first  began  to  dry  meat. 


Once  on  a  time  Brahmadatta  the  king  of  Benares  had 
four  sous.  One  day  they  sent  for  the  charioteer,  and  said 
to  him, 

"  We  want  to  see  a  Judas-tree l ;  shew  us  one ! " 
"  Very  well,  1  will,"  the  charioteer  replied.     But  he  did 
not  shew  it  them  all  together.     He  took  the  eldest  at  once 

1  Kimsuku  =  B>tt<><i ,  frondosa. 


to  the  forest  in  the  chariot,  and  shewed  him  the  tree  at 
the  time  when  the  buds  were  just  sprouting  from  the  stem. 
To  the  second  he  shewed  it  when  the  leaves  were  green,  to 
the  third  at  the  time  of  blossoming,  and  to  the  fourth  when 
it  was  bearing  fruit. 

After  this  it  happened  that  the  four  brothers  were 
sitting  together,  and  some  one  asked,  "What  sort  of  a 
tree  is  the  Judas-tree  ? "  Then  the  first  brother  answered, 

"  Like  a  burnt  stump ! " 

And  the  second  cried,  "  Like  a  banyan-tree ! " 

And  the  third — "Like  a  piece  of  meat1 !" 

And  the  fourth  said,  "  Like  the  acacia ! " 

They  were  vexed  at  each  other's  answers,  and  ran  to 
find  their  father.  "  My  lord,"  they  asked,  "  what  sort  of  a 
tree  is  the  Judas-tree  ? " 

"  What  is  that  you  say  ? "  he  asked.  They  told  him  the 
manner  of  their  answers.  Said  the  king, 

"All  four  of  you  have  seen  the  tree.  Only  when  the 
charioteer  shewed  you  the  tree,  you  did  not  ask  him 
'  What  is  the  tree  like  at  such  a  time  ? '  or  '  at  such  another 
time  ? '  You  made  no  distinctions,  and  that  is  the  reason 
of  your  mistake."  And  he  repeated  the  first  stanza : 

All  have  seen  the  Judas-tree— 
What  is  your  perplexity? 
No  one  asked  the  charioteer 
What  its  form  the  livelong1  year! 

Cf.  the  dispute  of  the  lion  and  tiger,  Jat.  17  (p.  20),  Dods.  n.  3,  The  Camelion  (two 
travellers  dispute  as  to  its  colourX  In  Julien  (8)  king  Adarsamukha  (Adasamukha 
of  the  next  tale)  shews  an  elephant  to  four  blind  men,  who  each  describe  it  differently. 
Udana  vi.  4.  Cf.  Rh.  Davids,  Dial,  of  the  Buddha,  i.  187. 

1  It  has  pink  flowers. 


Once  upon  a  time,  Brethren,  when  Janasandha  was 
reigning  in  Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  came  to  life  as  the 
son  of  his  chief  queen.  His  face  was  resplendent,  wearing 
a  look  of  auspicious  beauty,  like  a  golden  mirror  well 
polished.  On  the  day  of  his  naming  they  called  him 
Adasa-mukha,  Prince  Mirror-face. 

Within  the  space  of  seven  years  his  father  caused  him 
to  be  taught  the  three  Vedas,  and  all  the  duties  of  this 
world ;  and  then  he  died,  when  the  lad  was  seven  years 
old.  The  courtiers  performed  the  king's  obsequies  with 
great  pomp,  and  made  the  offerings  for  the  dead ;  and  on 
the  seventh  day  they  gathered  together  in  the  palace 
court,  and  talked  together.  The  prince  was  very  young, 
they  thought,  and  he  could  not  be  made  king. 

Before  they  made  him  king,  they  would  test  him.  So 
they  prepared  a  court  of  justice,  and  set  a  divan.  Then 
they  came  into  the  prince's  presence,  and  said  they,  "  You 
must  come,  my  lord,  to  the  law-court."  To  this  the  prince 
agreed ;  and  with  a  great  company  he  repaired  thither,  and 
sat  upon  the  dais. 

Now  at  the  time  when  the  king  sat  down  for  judg- 
ment, the  courtiers  had  dressed  up  a  monkey,  in  the  garb 
of  a  man  who  is  skilled  in  the  lore  which  tells  what  are 
good  sites  for  a  building.  They  made  him  go  upon  two 
feet,  and  brought  him  into  the  judgment  hall. 

"My  lord,"  said  they,  "in  the  time  of  the  king  your 
father  this  man  was  one  who  divined  by  magic  as  to 
desirable  sites,  and  well  did  he  know  his  art.  Down  in  the 
earth  as  deep  as  seven  cubits  he  can  see  a  fault.  By  his 
help  there  was  a  place  chosen  for  the  king's  house  ;  let  the 
king  provide  for  him,  and  give  him  a  post." 


The  prince  scanned  him  from  head  to  foot.  "  This  is 
no  man,  but  a  monkey,"  he  thought;  "and  monkeys  can 
destroy  what  others  have  made,  but  of  themselves  can 
neither  make  anything  nor  carry  out  such  a  thing."  And 
so  he  repeated  the  first  stanza  to  his  court  : 

It  is  not  a  clever  builder,  but  an  ape  with  a  wrinkled  face; 
He  can  destroy  what  others  make;  that  is  the  way  of  his  race. 

"  It  must  be  so,  my  lord ! "  said  the  courtiers,  and  took 
him  away.  But  after  a  day  or  two  they  dressed  this  same 
creature  in  grand  clothes,  and  brought  him  again  to  the 
judgment  hall.  "  In  the  king  your  father's  time,  my  lord, 
this  was  a  judge  who  dealt  justice.  Him  should  you  take 
to  help  you  in  the  awarding  of  justice." 

The  prince  looked  at  him.  Thought  he,  "  A  man  with 
mind  and  reason  is  not  so  hairy  as  all  that.  This  witless 
ape  cannot  dispense  justice  " ;  and  he  repeated  the  second 
stanza : 

There's  no  wit  in  this  hairy  creature;  he  breeds  no  confidence; 
He  knows  nought,  as  my  father  taught :  the  animal  has  no  sense ! 

"  So  it  must  be,  my  lord ! "  said  the  courtiers,  and  led 
him  away.  Yet  once  again  did  they  dress  up  the  very 
same  monkey,  and  bring  him  to  the  hall  of  judgment. 
"Sire,"  said  they,  "in  the  time  of  the  king  your  father 
this  man  did  his  duty  to  father  and  mother,  and  paid 
respect  to  old  age  in  his  family.  Him  you  should  keep 
with  you." 

Again   the    prince    looked    at    him,    and    thought- 
"  Monkeys  are  fickle  of  mind ;  such  a  thing  they  cannot 
do."    And  then  he  repeated  the  third  stanza: 

One  thing  Dasaratha1  has  taught  me ;  no  help  such  a  creature  would  send 
To  father  or  mother,  to  sister  or  brother,  or  any  who  call  him  friend ! 

1  Dasaratha  is  another  name  for  his  father  (Schol.). 


"So  must  it  be,  my  lord!"  answered  they,  and  took 
him  away  again.  And  they  said  amongst  themselves, 
"  'Tis  a  wise  prince ;  he  will  be  able  to  rule " ;  and  they 
made  the  Bodhisatta  king;  and  throughout  the  city  by 
beat  of  drum  they  made  proclamation,  saying,  "  The  edicts 
of  king  Mirror-face  ! " 

From  that  time  the  Bodhisatta  reigned  righteously; 
and  his  wisdom  was  noised  abroad  throughout  all  India. 
To  shew  forth  the  matter  of  this  wisdom  of  his,  these 
fourteen  problems  were  brought  to  him  to  decide: 

An  ox,  a  lad,  a  horse,  a  basket-knight, 
A  squire,  a  light-o'-love,  and  a  young  dame, 
A  snake,  a  deer,  a  partridge,  and  a  sprite, 
A  snake,  ascetics,  a  young  priest  I  name. 

This  happened  as  we  shall  now  explain.  When  the 
Bodhisatta  was  inaugurated  king,  a  certain  servant  of 
king  Janasandha,  named  Gamani-canda,  thus  considered 
within  himself:  "  This  kingdom  is  glorious  if  it  be  governed 
by  aid  of  those  who  are  of  an  age  with  the  king.  Now 
I  am  old,  and  I  cannot  wait  upon  a  young  prince:  so 
I  will  get  me  a  living  by  farming  in  the  country."  So  he 
departed  from  the  city  a  distance  of  three  leagues,  and 
abode  in  a  certain  village.  But  he  had  no  oxen  for 
farming.  And  so,  after  rain  had  fallen,  he  begged  the 
loan  of  two  oxen  from  a  friend  ;  all  day  long  he  ploughed 
with  them,  and  then  he  gave  them  grass  to  eat,  and  went 
to  the  owner's  house  to  give  them  back  again.  At  the 
moment  it  happened  that  the  owner  sat  at  meat  with  his 
wife;  and  the  oxen  entered  the  house,  quite  at  home. 
As  they  entered,  the  master  was  raising  his  plate,  and  the 
wife  putting  hers  down.  Seeing  that  they  did  not  invite 
him  to  share  the  meal,  Gamani-canda  departed  without 


formally  making  over  the  oxen.  During  the  night,  thieves 
broke  into  the  cow-pen,  and  stole  the  oxeii  away. 

Early  on  the  morrow,  the  owner  of  these  oxen  entered 
the  cow-shed,  but  cattle  there  were  none;  he  perceived 
that  they  had  been  stolen  away  by  thieves.  "I'll  make 
Gamani  pay  for  it ! "  thought  he,  and  to  Gamani  he 

"  I  say,  return  me  my  oxen ! "  cried  he. 

"  Are  not  they  in  their  stall  ? " 


"  Now  did  you  return  them  to  me  ? ' 

"No,  I  didn't." 

"  Here's  the  king's  officer :  come  along ! " 

Now  this  people  have  a  custom  that  they  pick  up 
a  bit  of  stone  or  a  potsherd,  and  say — "  Here's  the  king's 
officer :  come  along ! "  If  any  man  refuses  to  go,  he  is 
punished.  So  when  Gamani  heard  the  word  "  officer,"  he 
went  along. 

So  they  went  together  towards  the  king's  court.  On 
the  way,  they  came  to  a  village  where  dwelt  a  friend  of 
Gamani's.  Said  he  to  the  other, 

"I  say,  I'm  very  hungry.  Wait  here  till  I  go  in  and 
get  me  something  to  eat ! "  and  he  entered  his  friend's 

But  his  friend  was  not  at  home.     The  wife  said, 

"  Sir,  there  is  nothing  cooked.  Wait  but  a  moment ; 
I  will  cook  at  once  and  set  before  you." 

She  climbed  a  ladder  to  the  grain  store,  and  in  her 
haste  she  fell  to  the  ground.  And  as  she  was  seven  months 
gone  with  child,  a  miscarriage  followed. 

At  that  moment,  in  came  the  husband,  and  saw  what 
had  happened.  "You  have  struck  my  wife,"  cried  he, 
"  and  brought  her  labour  upon  her  untimely !  Here's  a 
king's  officer  for  you — come  along !"  and  he  carried  him  off. 


After  this  they  went  on,  the  two  of  them,  with  Gamani 

As  they  w^ent,  there  was  a  horse  at  a  village  gate ;  and 
the  groom  could  not  stop  it,  but  it  ran  along  with  them. 
The  horsekeeper  called  out  to  Gamani- 

"Uncle1  Candagamani,hit  the  horse  with  something,  and 
head  him  back ! "  Gamani  picked  up  a  stone,  and  threw  it 
at  the  horse.  The  stone  struck  his  foot,  and  broke  it  like 
the  stalk  of  a  castor-oil  plant.  Then  the  man  cried, 

"Oh,  you've  broken  my  horse's  leg!  Here's  a  king's 
officer  for  vou ! "  and  he  laid  hold  of  him. 


Gamani  was  thus  three  men's  prisoner.  As  they  led 
him  along,  he  thought :  "  These  people  will  denounce  me 
to  the  king ;  I  can't  pay  for  the  oxen ;  much  less  the  fine 
for  causing  an  untimely  birth ;  and  then  where  shall  I  get 
the  price  of  the  horse?  I  were  better  dead."  So,  as 
they  went  along,  he  saw  a  wood  hard  by  the  road,  and  in 
it  a  hill  with  a  precipice  on  one  side  of  it.  In  the  shadow 
of  it  were  two  basket-makers,  father  and  son,  weaving  a 
mat.  Said  Gamani, 

"  I  say,  I  want  to  retire  for  a  moment :  wait  here,  while 
I  go  aside  " ;  and  with  these  words  he  climbed  the  hill,  and 
threw  himself  down  the  precipice.  He  fell  upon  the  back 
of  the  elder  basket-maker,  and  killed  him  on  the  spot. 
Gamani  got  up,  and  stood  still. 

"Ah,  you  villain!  you've  murdered  my  father!"  cried 
the  younger  basket-maker ;  "  here's  the  king's  officer ! " 
He  seized  Gamani's  hands,  and  came  out  of  the  thicket. 

"What's  this?"  asked  the  others. 

"  The  villain  has  murdered  my  father !  " 

So  on  they  went,  the  four  of  them,  with  Gamani  in  the 

1  It  is  worth  noting  that  this  term  of  affection  means  a  mother's  brother. 


They  came  to  the  gate  of  another  village.  The  head- 
man was  there,  who  hailed  Gamani :  "Uncle  (Janda,  whither 

•  •    • 

away  ? " 

"  To  see  the  king,"  says  Gamani. 

"Oh  indeed,  to  see  the  king.  I  want  to  send  him  a 
message ;  will  you  take  it  ? ' 

"Yes,  that  I  will." 

"Well — I  am  usually  handsome,  rich,  honoured,  and 
healthy;  but  now  I  am  miserable  and  have  the  jaundice 
too.  Ask  the  king  why  this  is.  He  is  a  wise  man,  so  they 
say ;  he  will  tell  you,  and  you  can  bring  me  his  message 

To  this  the  other  agreed. 

At  another  village  a  light-o'-love  called  out  to  him- 
"  Whither  bound,  Uncle  Canda?" 

•    * 

"  To  see  the  king,"  says  he. 

"  They  say  the  king  is  a  wise  man ;  take  him  a  message 
from  me,"  says  the  woman.  "Aforetime  I  used  to  make 
great  gains ;  now  I  don't  get  the  worth  of  a  betel-nut,  and 
nobody  courts  me.  Ask  the  king  how  this  may  be,  and 
then  you  can  tell  me." 

At  a  third  village,  there  was  a  young  woman  who  told 
Gamani,  "  I  can  live  neither  with  my  husband  nor  with  my 
own  family.  Ask  the  king  how  this  is,  and  then  tell  me." 

A  little  further  on  there  was  a  snake  living  in  an  ant- 
hill near  the  road.  He  saw  Gamani,  and  called  out, 

"  Whither  away,  Canda  ? " 

"To  see  the  king." 

"  The  king  is  wise ;  take  him  a  message  from  me. 
When  I  go  out  to  get  my  food,  I  leave  this  ant-hill  faint 
and  famishing,  and  yet  I  fill  the  entrance  hole  with  my 
body,  and  I  get  out  with  difficulty,  dragging  myself  along. 
But  when  I  come  in  again,  I  feel  satisfied,  and  fat,  yet 


I  pass  quickly  through  the   hole  without  touching  the 
sides.      How  is   this  ?   ask  the  king,  and  bring  me  his 


And  further  on  a  deer  saw  him,  and  said — "  I  can't  eat 
grass  anywhere  but  underneath  this  tree.  Ask  the  king 
the  reason."  And  again  a  partridge  said,  "  When  I  sit  at 
the  foot  of  this  ant-heap,  and  utter  my  note,  I  can  make 
it  prettily ;  but  nowhere  else.  Ask  the  king  why."  And 
again,  a  tree  spirit  saw  him,  and  said, 

"Whither  away,  Canda?" 

"To  the  king." 

"The  king's  a  wise  man,  they  say.  In  former  times 
I  was  highly  honoured ;  now  I  don't  receive  so  much  as 
a  handful  of  twigs.  Ask  the  king  what  the  reason  is." 

And  further  on  again  he  was  seen  by  a  naga  king, 
who  spoke  to  him  thus:  "The  king  is  said  to  be  a  wise 
man:  then  ask  him  this  question.  Heretofore  the  water 
in  this  pool  has  been  clear  as  crystal.  Why  is  it  that  now 
it  has  become  turbid,  with  scum  all  over  it  ? " 

Further  on,  not  far  from  a  town,  certain  ascetics  who 
dwelt  in  a  park  saw  him,  and  said,  in  the  same  way,  "They 
say  the  king  is  wise.  Of  yore  there  were  in  this  park 
sweet  fruits  in  plenty,  now  they  have  grown  tasteless  and 
dry.  Ask  him  what  the  reason  is."  Further  on  again,  he 
was  accosted  by  some  brahmin  students  who  were  in  a  hall 
at  the  gate  of  a  town.  They  said  to  him, 

"  Where  are  you  going,  Canda,  eh  ? " 

"  To  the  king,"  says  Canda. 

"  Then   take   a  message  for  us.     Till  now,  whatever 
passage  we  learnt  was  bright  and  clear ;  now  it  does  not 
stay  with  us,  it  is  not  understood,  but  all  is  darkness,- 
it  is  like  water  in  a  leaky  jar.     Ask  the  king  what  the 
reason  is." 


Gamani-canda  came  before  the  king  with  his  fourteen 
questions.  When  the  king  saw  him,  he  recognised  him, 
"  This  is  my  father's  servant,  who  used  to  dandle  me  in  his 
arms.  Where  has  he  been  living  all  this  time?"  And 
"Canda,"  said  he,  "where  have  you  been  living  all  this 
time  ?  We  have  seen  nothing  of  you  for  a  long  while ; 
what  brings  you  here  ? " 

"Oh,  my  lord,  when  my  lord  the  late  king  went  to 
heaven,  I  departed  into  the  country  and  kept  myself  by 
farming.  Then  this  man  summoned  me  for  a  suit  regard- 
ing his  cattle,  and  here  he  has  brought  me." 

"  If  you  had  not  been  brought  here,  you  had  never 
come ;  but  I'm  glad  that  you  were  brought  anyhow.  Now 
I  can  see  you.  Where  is  that  man?" 

"  Here,  my  lord." 

"  Is  it  you  that  summoned  our  friend  Canda  ? " 

"  Yes,  my  lord." 


"  He  refuses  to  give  back  my  pair  of  oxen ! " 

"  Is  this  so,  Canda  ? " 

•    • 

"  Hear  my  story  too,  my  lord  ! "  said  Canda  ;  and  told 
him  the  whole.  When  he  had  heard  the  tale,  the  king 
accosted  the  owner  of  the  oxen.  "  Did  you  see  the  oxen," 
said  he,  "  entering  the  stall  ? " 

"  No,  my  lord,"  the  man  replied. 

"  Why,  man,  did  you  never  hear  my  name  ?  They  call 
me  king  Mirror-face.  Speak  out  honestly." 

"  I  saw  them,  my  lord ! "  said  he. 

"  Now,  Canda,"  said  the  king,  "  you  failed  to  return  the 
oxen,  and  therefore  you  are  his  debtor  for  them.  But  this 
man,  in  saying  that  he  had  not  seen  them,  told  a  direct 
lie.  Therefore  you  with  your  own  hands  shall  pluck  his 
eyes  out,  and  you  shall  yourself  pay  him  twenty-four 


pieces  of  money  as  the  price  of  the  oxen."  Then  they  led 
the  owner  of  the  oxen  out  of  doors. 

"  If  I  lose  my  eyes,  what  do  I  care  for  the  money  ? " 
thought  he.  And  he  fell  at  Gamani's  feet,  and  besought 
him — "O  master  Canda,  keep  those  twenty-four  pieces, 
and  take  these  too ! "  and  he  gave  him  other  pieces,  and 
ran  away. 

The  second  man  said,  "  My  lord,  this  fellow  struck  my 
wife,  and  made  her  miscarry."  "  Is  this  true,  Canda  ? " 
asked  the  king.  Canda  begged  for  a  hearing,  and  told 
the  whole  story. 

"Did  you  really  strike  her,  and  cause  her  to  miscarry?" 
asked  the  king. 

"  No,  my  lord  !     I  did  no  such  thing." 

"  Now,  can  you  "  -to  the  other — "  can  you  heal  the  mis- 
carriage which  he  has  caused  ? " 

"  No,  my  lord,  I  cannot." 

"  Now,  what  do  you  want  to  do  ? " 

"  I  ought  to  have  a  son,  my  lord." 

"Now  then,  Canda — you  take  the  man's  wife  to  your 
house ;  and  when  a  son  shall  be  born  to  you,  hand  him 
over  to  the  husband." 

Then  this  man  also  fell  at  Canda's  feet,  crying,  "  Don't 
break  up  my  home,  master ! "  threw  down  some  money, 
and  made  off. 

The  third  man  then  accused  Canda  of  laming  his  horse's 
foot.  Canda  as  before  told  what  had  happened.  Then  the 
king  asked  the  owner, 

"  Did  you  really  bid  Canda  strike  the  horse,  and  turn 
him  back  ? " 

"  No,  my  lord,  I  did  not."  But  on  being  pressed,  he 
admitted  that  he  had  said  so. 

"This  man,"  said  the  king,  "has  told  a  direct  lie,  in 


saying  that  he  did  not  tell  you  to  head  back  the  horse.  You 
may  tear  out  his  tongue ;  and  then  pay  him  a  thousand 
pieces  for  the  horse's  price,  which  I  will  give  you."  But 
the  fellow  even  gave  him  another  sum  of  money,  and 

Then  the  basket-maker's  son  said, 

"  This  fellow  is  a  murderer,  and  he  killed  my  father  ! " 

"  Is  it  so,  Canda  ? "  asked  the  king.  "  Hear  me,  my  lord," 
said  Canda,  and  told  him  about  it. 

"  Now,  what  do  you  want  ? "  asked  the  king. 

"  My  lord,  I  must  have  my  father." 

"  Canda,"  said  the  king,  "  this  man  must  have  a  father. 
But  you  cannot  bring  him  back  from  the  dead.  Then 
take  his  mother  to  your  house,  and  do  you  be  a  father 
to  him." 

"  Oh,  master ! "  cried  the  man,  "  don't  break  up  my  dead 
father's  home  ! "  He  gave  Gamani  a  sum  of  money,  and 
hurried  away. 

Thus  Gamani  won  his  suit,  and  in  great  delight  he  said 
to  the  king, 

"  My  lord,  I  have  several  questions  for  you  from  several 
persons ;  may  I  tell  you  them  ? " 

"  Say  on,"  said  the  king. 

So  Gamani  told  them  all  in  reverse  order,  beginning 
with  the  young  brahmins.  The  king  answered  them 
in  turn.  To  the  first  question,  he  answered:  "In  the 
place  where  they  lived  there  used  to  be  a  crowing  cock 
that  knew  the  time.  When  they  heard  his  crow,  they 
used  to  rise  up,  and  repeat  their  texts,  until  the  sun  rose, 
and  thus  they  did  not  forget  what  they  learnt.  But  now 
there  is  a  cock  that  crows  out  of  season;  he  crows  at 
dead  of  night,  or  in  broad  day.  When  he  crows  in  the 
depth  of  night,  up  they  rise,  but  they  are  too  sleepy  to 


repeat  the  text.  When  he  crows  in  broad  day,  they  rise 
up,  but  they  have  not  the  chance  to  repeat  their  texts. 
Thus  it  is,  that  whatever  they  learn,  they  soon  forget." 

To  the  second  question,  he  answered  :  "  Formerly 
these  men  used  to  do  all  the  duties  of  the  ascetic,  and 
they  induced  the  mystic  trance.  Now  they  have  neglected 
the  ascetic's  duties,  and  they  do  what  they  ought  not  to 
do ;  the  fruits  which  grow  in  the  park  they  give  to  their 
attendants;  they  live  in  a  sinful  way,  exchanging  their 
alms1.  This  is  why  this  fruit  does  not  grow  sweet.  If 
they  once  more  with  one  consent  do  their  duty  as 
ascetics,  again  the  fruit  will  grow  sweet  for  them.  Those 
hermits  know  not  the  wisdom  of  kings ;  tell  them  to  live 
the  ascetic  life." 

He  heard  the  third  question,  and  answered,  "  Those 
naga  chiefs  quarrel  one  with  another,  and  that  is  why 
the  water  becomes  turbid.  If  they  make  friends  as 
before,  the  water  will  be  clear  again."  After  hearing 
the  fourth,  "The  tree-spirit,"  said  he,  "used  formerly  to 
protect  men  passing  through  the  wood,  and  therefore  it 
received  many  offerings.  Now  it  gives  them  no  protection, 
and  so  it  receives  no  offerings.  If  it  protects  them  as 
before,  it  will  receive  choice  offerings  again.  It  knows 
not  that  there  are  kings  in  the  world.  Tell  it,  then,  to 
guard  the  men  who  go  up  into  that  wood."  And  on 
hearing  the  fifth,  "  Under  the  ant-hill  where  the  partridge 
finds  himself  able  to  utter  a  pleasant  cry  is  a  crock  of 
treasure ;  dig  it  up  and  get  it."  To  the  sixth  he  answered, 
"On  the  tree  under  which  the  deer  found  he  could  eat 
grass,  is  a  great  honeycomb.  He  craves  the  grass  on 
which  this  honey  has  dropped,  and  so  he  can  eat  no  other. 
You  get  the  honeycomb,  send  the  best  of  it  to  me,  and  eat 

1  Some  staying  at  home,  while  others  beg  for  all,  to  save  trouble. 


the  rest  yourself."  Then  on  hearing  the  seventh,  "  Under 
the  snake's  ant-heap  lies  a  large  treasure-crock,  and  there  he 
lives  guarding  it.  So  when  he  goes  out,  from  greed  for  this 
treasure  his  body  sticks  fast ;  but  after  he  has  fed,  his 
desire  for  the  treasure  prevents  his  body  from  sticking,  and 
he  goes  in  quickly  and  easily.  Dig  up  the  treasure,  and 
keep  it."  Then  he  replied  to  the  eighth  question,  "Between 
the  villages  where  dwell  the  young  woman's  husband  and 
her  parents  lives  a  lover  of  hers  in  a  certain  house.  She 
remembers  him,  and  her  desire  is  toward  him ;  therefore 
she  cannot  stay  in  her  husband's  house,  but  says  she  will 
go  and  see  her  parents,  and  on  the  way  she  stays  a  few 
days  with  her  lover.  When  she  has  been  at  home  a  few 
days,  again  she  remembers  him,  and  saying  she  will 
return  to  her  husband,  she  goes  again  to  her  lover.  Go, 
tell  her  there  are  kings  in  the  land ;  say,  she  must  dwell 
with  her  husband,  and  if  she  will  not,  let  her  have  a  care, 
the  king  will  cause  her  to  be  seized,  and  she  shall  die." 
He  heard  the  ninth,  and  to  this  he  said,  "The  woman 
used  formerly  to  take  a  price  from  the  hand  of  one,  and 
not  to  go  with  another  until  she  was  off  with  him,  and 
that  is  how  she  used  to  receive  much.  Now  she  has 
changed  her  manner,  and  without  leave  of  the  first  she 
goes  with  the  last,  so  that  she  receives  nothing,  and  none 
seek  after  her.  If  she  keeps  to  her  old  custom,  it  will  be 
as  it  was  before.  Tell  her  that  she  should  keep  to  that." 
On  hearing  the  tenth,  he  replied,  "  That  village  headman 
used  once  to  deal  justice  indifferently,  so  that  men  were 
pleased  and  delighted  with  him ;  and  in  their  delight  they 
gave  him  many  a  present.  This  is  what  made  him  hand- 
some, rich,  and  honoured.  Now  he  loves  to  take  bribes, 
and  his  judgment  is  not  fair ;  so  he  is  poor  and  miserable, 
and  jaundiced.  If  he  judges  once  again  with  righteousness, 

F.  &  T.  14 


he  will  be  again  as  he  was  before.  He  knows  not  that 
there  are  kings  in  the  land.  Tell  him  that  he  must  use 
justice  in  giving  judgment." 

And  Gamani-canda  told  all  these  messages,  as  they 
were  told  to  him.  And  the  king  having  resolved  all  these 
questions  by  his  wisdom,  like  Buddha  omniscient,  gave 
rich  presents  to  Gamani-canda ;  and  the  village  where 
Canda  dwelt  he  gave  to  him,  as  a  brahmin's  gift,  and  let 
him  go.  Canda  went  out  of  the  city,  and  told  the  king's 
answer  to  the  brahmin  youths,  and  the  ascetics,  to  the 


naga  and  to  the  tree-spirit ;  he  took  the  treasure  from 
the  place  where  the  partridge  sat,  and  from  the  tree 
beneath  which  the  deer  did  eat,  he  took  the  honeycomb, 
and  sent  honey  to  the  king ;  he  broke  into  the  snake's  ant- 
hill, and  gathered  the  treasure  out  of  it ;  and  to  the  young 
woman,  and  the  light-o'-love,  and  the  village  headman  he 
said  even  as  the  king  had  told  him.  Then  he  returned  to 
his  own  village,  and  dwelt  there  so  long  as  he  lived,  and 
afterward  passed  away  to  fare  according  to  his  deserts. 
And  king  Mirror-face  also  gave  alms,  and  wrought  good- 
ness, and  finally  after  his  death  attained  to  heaven. 

Tib.  T.  in.  Adarsamukha,  where  there  are  seven  problems,  only  five  of  which 
liave  a  correspondence  with  the  jataka.  The  same  story  in  Schmidt,  340  ff.,  quoted 
by  Benf.  Einl.  §  166.  Cf.  The  Nineteen  Problems,  and  Clouston,  i.  61—64,  Grimm  29, 
Anm.  On  the  influence  of  buried  gold  in  the  fifth  question  cf.  Jat.  39,  p.  40. 


Once  on  a  time,  when  Brahmadatta  was  king  of 
Benares,  there  was  a  great  lake  in  Himalaya,  wherein 
was  a  great  golden  Crab.  Because  he  lived  there,  the 
place  was  known  as  the  Crab  Tarn.  The  Crab  was  very 
large,  as  big  round  as  a  threshing  floor;  it  would  catch 
elephants,  and  kill  and  eat  them ;  and  from  fear  of  it  the 
elephants  durst  not  go  down  and  browse  there. 

Now  the  Bodhisatta  was  conceived  by  the  mate  of  an 
elephant,  the  leader  of  a  herd,  living  hard  by  this  Crab 
Tarn.  The  mother,  in  order  to  be  safe  till  her  delivery, 
sought  another  place  on  a  mountain,  and  there  she  was 
delivered  of  a  son ;  who  in  due  time  grew  to  years  of 
wisdom,  and  was  great  and  mighty,  and  prospered,  and  he 
was  like  a  purple  mountain  of  collyrium. 

He  chose  another  elephant  for  his  mate,  and  he  re- 
solved to  catch  this  Crab.  So  with  his  mate  and  his 
mother,  he  sought  out  the  elephant  herd,  and  finding  his 
father,  proposed  to  go  and  catch  the  Crab. 

"  You  will  not  be  able  to  do  that,  my  son,"  said  he. 

But  he  begged  the  father  again  and  again  to  give  him 
leave,  until  at  last  he  said,  "  Well,  you  may  try." 

So  the  young  Elephant  collected  all  the  elephants 
beside  the  Crab  Tarn,  and  led  them  close  by  the  lake. 
"Does  the  Crab  catch  them  when  they  go  down,  or 
while  they  are  feeding,  or  when  they  come  up  again  ? " 

They  replied,  "  When  the  beasts  come  up  again." 

"  Well  then,"  said  he,  "  do  you  all  go  down  to  the  lake 
and  eat  whatever  you  see,  and  come  up  first;  I  will  follow 
last  behind  you."  And  so  they  did.  Then  the  Crab, 
seeing  the  Bodhisatta  coming  up  last,  caught  his  feet  tight 
in  his  claw,  like  a  smith  who  seizes  a  lump  of  iron  in  a 


212         THE   CRAB  AND   THE   ELEPHANT 

huge  pair  of  tongs.  The  Bodhisatta's  mate  did  not  leave 
him,  but  stood  there  close  by  him.  The  Bodhisatta 
pulled  at  the  Crab,  but  could  not  make  him  budge. 
Then  the  Crab  pulled,  and  drew  him  towards  himself. 
In  deadly  fear  the  Elephant  roared  the  cry  of  capture ; 
hearing  which  all  the  other  elephants,  in  deadly  terror, 
ran  off  trumpeting,  and  dropping  excrement.  Even  his 
mate  could  not  stand,  but  began  to  make  off  Then  to  tell 
her  how  he  was  held  a  prisoner,  he  uttered  the  first  stanza, 
hoping  to  stay  her  from  her  flight : 

Gold-clawed1  creature  with  projecting  eyes, 
Tarn-bred,  hairless,  clad  in  bony  shell, 
He  has  caught  me!  hear  my  woful  cries!— 
Mate!  don't  leave  me — for  you  love  me  well! 

Then  his  mate  turned  round,  and  repeated  the  second 
stanza  to  his  comfort : 

Leave  you?  never!  never  will  I  go- 
Noble  husband,  with  your  years  threescore. 
All  four  quarters  of  the  earth  can  shew 
None  so  dear  as  you  have  been  of  yore. 

In  this  way  she  encouraged  him ;  and  saying,  "  Noble 
sir,  now  I  will  talk  to  the  Crab  a  while  to  make  him  let  you 
go,"  she  addressed  the  Crab  in  the  third  stanza: 

Of  all  the  crabs  that  in  the  sea, 
Ganges,  or  Nerbudda  be, 
You  are  best  and  chief,  I  know: 
Hear  me — let  my  husband  go! 

As  she  spoke  thus,  the  Crab's  fancy  was  smitten  with 
the  sound  of  the  female  voice,  and  forgetting  all  fear  he 
loosed  his  claws  from  the  Elephant's  leg,  and  suspected 

1  Singi  means  either  '  horned '  or  '  gold,'  and  the  scholiast  gives  both  interpre- 
tations. As  the  word  suggested  both  to  the  writer,  I  use  a  word  which  expresses 
both  in  English.  (Dr  Rouse.) 


^    >\  >*  I  -I- 


(Jdlnh-n  -KM,  p.   211) 

THE   OWL  AS  KING  213 

nothing  of  what  he  would  do  when  he  was  set  free.  Then 
the  Elephant  lifted  his  foot,  and  stepped  upon  the  Crab's 
back ;  and  at  once  his  eyes  started  out.  The  Elephant 
shouted  the  joy-cry.  Up  ran  the  other  elephants  all, 
pulled  the  Crab  along  and  set  him  upon  the  ground,  and 
trampled  him  to  mincemeat.  His  two  claws  broken  from 
his  body  lay  apart.  And  this  Crab  Tarn,  being  near  the 
Ganges,  when  there  was  a  flood  in  the  Ganges,  was  filled 
with  Ganges  water;  when  the  water  subsided  it  ran 
from  the  lake  into  the  Ganges.  Then  these  two  claws 
were  lifted  and  floated  along  the  Ganges.  One  of  them 
reached  the  sea,  the  other  was  found  by  the  ten  royal 
brothers  while  playing  in  the  water,  and  they  took  it  and 
made  of  it  the  little  drum  called  Anaka.  The  Titans 
found  that  which  reached  the  sea,  and  made  it  into  the 
drum  called  Alambara.  These  afterwards  being  worsted 
in  battle  with  Sakka,  ran  off  and  left  it  behind.  Then 
Sakka  caused  it  to  be  kept  for  his  own  use ;  and  it  is 
of  this  they  say,  "There  is  thunder  like  the  Alambara 
cloud ! " 

The  tale  of  the  ten  royal  brothers  is  part  of  the  Krishna  legend.  Krishna  slays 
a  demon  Pancajana  in  the  form  of  a  conch  shell,  of  which  he  makes  a  war-horn. 
Vishnu  Pur.  v.  21.  The  father  of  the  royal  brothers,  who  in  the  Vishnu  Pur.  iv.  15 
is  called  Vasudeva,  has  the  epithet  Anakadundubhi,  'he  who  has  a  war-drum 
(anaka}.'  See  further,  The  ten  Slave-brethren. 


Once  upon  a  time,  the  people  who  lived  in  the  first 
cycle  of  the  world  gathered  together,  and  took  for  their 
king  a  certain  man,  handsome,  auspicious,  commanding, 
altogether  perfect.  The  quadrupeds  also  gathered,  and 
chose  for  king  the  Lion ;  and  the  fish  in  the  ocean  chose 

214  THE   OWL  AS   KING 

them  a  fish  called  Ananda.  Then  all  the  birds  in  the 
Himalayas  assembled  upon  a  flat  rock,  crying, 

"Among  men  there  is  a  king,  and  among  the  beasts,  and 
the  fish  have  one  too ;  but  amongst  us  birds  king  there  is 
none.  We  should  not  live  in  anarchy;  we  too  should 
choose  a  king.  Fix  on  some  one  fit  to  be  set  in  the  king's 
place ! " 

They  searched  about  for  such  a  bird,  and  chose  the 
Owl ;  "  Here  is  the  bird  we  like,"  said  they.  And  a  bird 
made  proclamation  three  times  to  all  that  there  would  be 
a  vote  taken  on  this  matter.  After  patiently  hearing  this 
announcement  twice,  on  the  third  time  up  rose  a  Crow, 
and  cried  out, 

"  Stay  now !  If  that  is  what  he  looks  like  when  he  is 
being  consecrated  king,  what  will  he  look  like  when  he  is 
angry?  If  he  only  looks  at  us  in  anger,  we  shall  be 
scattered  like  sesame  seeds  thrown  on  a  hot  plate.  I  don't 
want  to  make  this  fellow  king ! "  and  enlarging  upon  this 
he  uttered  the  first  stanza : 

The  owl  is  king-,  you  say,  o'er  all  bird-kind: 
With  your  permission,  may  I  speak  my  mind? 

The  Birds  repeated  the  second,  granting  him  leave  to 
speak : 

You  have  our  leave,  Sir,  so  it  be  good  and  right: 
For  other  birds  are  young,  and  wise,  and  bright. 

Thus  permitted,  he  repeated  the  third : 

I  like  not  (with  all  deference  be  it  said) 
To  have  the  Owl  anointed  as  our  Head. 
Look  at  his  face!  if  this  good  humour  be, 
What  will  he  do  when  he  looks  angrily? 

Then  he  flew  up  into  the  air,  cawing  out  "  I  don't  like 
it !  I  don't  like  it ! "  The  Owl  rose  and  pursued  him. 


Thenceforward  those  two  nursed  enmity  one  towards 
another.  And  the  birds  chose  a  golden  Mallard  for  their 
king,  and  dispersed. 

P.  (T.)  ni.  2,  Som.  LXII.  34  (ii.  65),  K.  D.  (Syr.)  vi.  1,  (Arab.)  vm.  In  Julien  7  the 
parrot  objects  to  the  owl  and  is  chosen  himself.  In  Aesop  (Halm  398)  the  peacock 
is  chosen,  and  the  jackdaw  says,  "  If  you  are  king,  and  the  eagle  attacks  us,  how  will 
YOU  defend  us  ? " 


Once  on  a  time,  when  Brahmadatta  reigned  in  Benares, 
the  Bodhisatta  was  born  into  a  Brahmin  family  in  the 
realm  of  Kasi.  On  growing  up,  he  was  educated  at 
Takkasila,  and  lived  among  his  family ;  but  when  his 
parents  died,  much  distressed  he  retired  to  the  life  of  a 
recluse  in  the  Himalaya,  and  there  he  cultivated  the 

A  long  time  passed,  and  he  came  down  to  inhabited 
parts  for  salt  and  savouring,  and  took  up  his  quarters  in 
the  gardens  of  the  king  of  Benares.  Next  day,  on  his 
begging  rounds,  he  came  to  the  door  of  an  elephant- 
trainer.  This  man  took  a  fancy  to  his  ways  and  manners, 
fed  him,  and  gave  him  lodging  in  his  own  grounds,  waiting 
upon  him  continually. 

Now  it  happened  just  then  that  a  man  whose  business  it 
was  to  gather  firewood  failed  to  get  back  to  town  from 
the  woods  in  time.  He  lay  down  for  the  night  in  a 
temple,  placing  a  bundle  of  sticks  under  his  head  for 
a  pillow7.  At  this  temple  there  were  a  number  of  cocks 
quite  free,  which  had  perched  close  by  on  a  tree.  Towards 
morning,  one  of  them,  who  was  roosting  high,  let  fall  a 
dropping  on  the  back  of  a  bird  below.  "  Who  dropt  that 
on  me?"  cried  this  one.  "I  did,"  cried  the  first.  "And 


why?"  "Didn't  think,"  said  the  other;  and  then  did  it 
again.  Hereupon  they  both  began  to  abuse  each  other, 
crying — "  What  power  have  you  ?  what  power  have  you  ? " 
At  last  the  lower  one  said,  "  Anybody  who  kills  me,  and 
eats  my  flesh  roasted  on  the  coals,  gets  a  thousand  pieces 
of  money  in  the  morning  ! "  And  the  one  above  answered 
-"  Pooh,  pooh,  don't  boast  about  a  little  thing  like  that ! 
Anybody  who  eats  my  fleshy  parts  will  become  king ;  if 
he  eats  my  outside,  he'll  become  commander-in-chief  or 


chief  queen,  according  as  he's  man  or  woman ;  if  he 
eats  the  flesh  by  my  bones,  he'll  get  the  post  of  royal 
Treasurer,  if  he  be  a  householder ;  or,  if  a  holy  man,  will 
become  the  king's  favourite  ! " 

The  stick-picker  heard  all  this,  and  pondered.  "Now 
if  I  become  king,  there'll  be  no  need  of  a  thousand  pieces 
of  money."  Quietly  he  climbed  the  tree,  caught  the  top- 
most cock  and  killed  him :  he  fastened  him  in  a  fold  of 
his  dress,  saying  to  himself — "  Now  I'll  be  king ! "  As 
soon  as  the  gates  were  opened,  in  he  walked.  He  plucked 
the  fowl,  and  cleaned  it,  and  gave  it  to  his  wife,  bidding 
her  make  the  meat  nice  for  eating.  She  got  ready  the 
meat  with  some  rice,  and  set  it  before  him,  bidding  her 
lord  eat. 

"  Goodwife,"  said  he,  "  there's  great  virtue  in  this  meat. 
By  eating  it  I  shall  become  king,  and  you  my  queen ! " 
So  they  took  the  meat  and  rice  down  to  the  Ganges 
bank,  intending  to  bathe  before  eating  it.  Then,  putting 
meat  and  rice  down  upon  the  bank,  in  they  went  to  bathe. 

Just  then  a  breeze  stirred  up  the  water,  which  washed 
away  the  meat.  Down  the  river  it  floated,  till  it  came  in 
sight  of  an  elephant-trainer,  a  great  personage,  who  was 
giving  his  elephants  a  bath  lower  down.  "What  have  we 
here  ? "  said  he,  and  picked  it  up.  "  It's  fowl  and  rice,  my 


lord,"  was  the  reply.  He  bade  wrap  it  up,  and  seal  it,  and 
sent  it  home  to  his  wife,  with  a  message  not  to  open  it  till 
he  returned. 

The  stick-picker  also  ran  off,  with  his  belly  puffed  out 
with  sand  and  water  which  he  had  swallowed. 

Now  a  certain  ascetic,  who  had  divine  vision,  the  family 
priest  of  the  elephant-trainer,  was  thinking  to  himself, 
"  My  patron  friend  does  not  leave  his  post  with  the 
elephants.  When  will  he  attain  promotion  ? "  As  he  thus 
pondered,  he  saw  this  man  by  his  divine  insight,  and  per- 
ceived what  was  a-doing.  He  went  on  before,  and  sat  in 
the  patron's  house. 

When  the  master  returned,  he  greeted  him  respect- 
fully and  sat  down  on  one  side.  Then  sending  for  the 
parcel,  he  ordered  food  and  water  to  be  brought  for  the 
ascetic.  The  ascetic  took  the  rice  which  was  offered ;  but 
not  the  meat,  and  said,  "I  will  divide  this  meat."  The 
master  gave  him  leave.  Then  separating  the  meat  into 
portions,  he  gave  to  the  elephant-trainer  the  fleshy  parts, 
the  outside  to  his  wife,  and  took  the  flesh  about  the  bones 
for  his  own  share.  After  the  meal  was  over,  he  said,  "  On 
the  third  day  from  this  you  will  become  king.  Take  care 
what  you  do ! "  and  away  he  went. 

On  the  third  day  a  neighbouring  king  came  and 
beleaguered  Benares.  The  king  told  his  elephant-trainer 
to  dress  in  the  royal  robes,  bidding  him  go  mount  his 
elephant  and  fight.  He  himself  put  on  a  disguise,  and 
mingled  with  the  ranks ;  swift  came  an  arrow,  and  pierced 
him,  so  that  he  perished  then  and  there.  The  trainer, 
learning  that  the  king  was  dead,  sent  for  a  great  quantity 
of  money,  and  beat  the  drum,  proclaiming,  "Let  those  who 
want  money,  advance,  and  fight ! "  The  warrior  host  in  a 
twinkling  slew  the  hostile  king. 


After  the  king's  obsequies  the  courtiers  deliberated 
who  was  to  be  made  king.  Said  they,  "While  our  king 
was  yet  alive,  he  put  his  royal  robes  upon  the  elephant- 
trainer.  This  very  man  has  fought  and  won  the  kingdom. 
To  him  the  kingdom  shall  be  given ! "  And  they  conse- 
crated him  king,  and  his  wife  they  made  the  chief  queen. 
The  Bodhisatta  became  his  confidant. 

The  episode  of  eating  the  cock's  flesh  occurs  in  Jat.  445,  Tib.  T.  vin.,  Steele  and 
Temple,  Wideawake  Stories,  p.  139.  Miklosich  ( Ueber  die  Mundarten  der  Zigeuner, 
iv.  p.  25)  gives  a  tale  of  the  gipsies  of  Bukowina.  A  poor  man  with  three  sons  buys 
a  hen  which  lays  a  diamond,  and  a  second  and  third,  on  the  last  of  which  is  written, 
"  he  who  eats  the  head  of  the  hen  will  become  emperor,  he  who  eats  the  heart  will 
have  1000  gold  pieces  under  his  head  every  night,  and  he  who  eats  the  feet  will 
be  a  prophet."  The  luck  falls  to  the  three  sons.  Of.  Jat.  136,  p.  1 1 7,  Clouston,  i.  93  ff., 
Grimm  60.  On  the  folklore  of  eating  the  heart  see  p.  176. 


Once  upon  a  time,  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  as  a  rich  merchant's  son ; 
and  after  his  father's  death,  took  his  place.  In  his  house 
was  buried  a  treasure  of  four  hundred  million.  He  had 
an  only  son.  The  Bodhisatta  gave  alms  and  did  good 
until  he  died,  and  then  he  came  to  life  again  as  Sakka, 
king  of  the  gods.  His  son  proceeded  to  make  a  pavilion 
across  the  road,  and  sat  down  with  many  friends  round 
him,  to  drink.  He  paid  a  thousand  pieces  to  runners 
and  tumblers,  singers  and  dancers,  and  passed  his  time  in 
drinking,  gluttony,  and  debauchery;  he  wandered  about, 
asking  only  for  song,  music,  and  dancing,  devoted  to  his 
boon-companions,  sunk  in  sloth.  So  in  a  short  time  he 
squandered  all  his  treasure  of  four  hundred  millions,  all 
his  property,  goods,  and  furniture,  and  got  so  poor  and 
miserable  that  he  had  to  go  about  clad  in  rags. 


Sakka,  as  he  meditated,  became  aware  how  poor  he 
was.  Overcome  with  love  for  his  son,  he  gave  him  a 
Wishing  Cup,  with  these  words:  "Son,  take  care  not  to 
break  this  cup.  So  long  as  you  keep  it,  your  wealth  will 
never  come  to  an  end.  So  take  good  care  of  it ! "  and  then 
he  returned  to  heaven. 

After  that  the  man  did  nothing  but  drink  out  of  it. 
One  day,  he  was  drunk,  and  threw  the  cup  into  the  air, 
catching  it  as  it  fell.  But  once  he  missed  it.  Down  it  fell 
upon  the  earth,  and  smashed !  Then  he  got  poor  again, 
and  went  about  in  rags,  begging,  bowl  in  hand,  till  at  last 
he  lay  down  by  a  wall,  and  died. 

Cf.  Uhland's  ballad  of  the  Luck  of  Edenhall  (translated  by  Longfellow),  which 
was  suggested  to  him  by  Ritson's  Fairy  Tales,  xix.  (1831).  The  shattering  of  the 
cup  and  ruin  of  the  place  was  Uhland's  invention.  The  cup  still  exists  in  the 
possession  of  the  Musgrave  family.  Ritson  says  that  the  Duke  of  Wharton  once 
accidentally  dropped  it,  but  that  the  butler  caught  it  in  a  napkin.  See  E.  S.  Hart- 
land,  The  Science  of  Fairy  Tales,  p.  153,  London,  1891. 


Once  upon  a  time,  when  Brahmadatta  was  king  of 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  became  a  tree-spirit  in  a  certain 
rose-apple  grove.  A  Crow  perched  upon  a  branch  of  his 
tree,  and  began  to  eat  the  fruit.  Then  came  a  Jackal,  and 
looked  up  and  spied  the  Crow.  Thought  he,  "  If  I  flatter 
this  creature,  perhaps  I  shall  get  some  of  the  fruit  to  eat ! " 
So  in  flattery  he  repeated  the  first  stanza : 

Who  is  it  sits  in  a  rose-apple  tree- 
Sweet  singer!  whose  voice  trickles  gently  to  me? 
Like  a  young-  peacock  she  coos  with  soft  grace, 
And  ever  sits  still  in  her  place. 


The  Crow,  in  his  praise,  responded  with  the  second : 

He  that  is  noble  in  breeding-  and  birth 
Can  praise  others'  breeding1,  knows  what  they  are  worth. 
Like  a  young-  tiger  thou  seemest  to  be : 
Come,  eat  what  I  give,  Sir,  to  thee! 

With  these  words  she  shook  the  branch  and  made 
some  fruit  drop.  Then  the  spirit  of  the  tree,  beholding 
these  two  eating,  after  flattering  each  other,  repeated  the 
third  stanza : 

Liars,  foregather,  I  very  well  know. 
Here,  for  example,  a  carrion  Crow, 
And  corpse-eating  Jackal,  with  puerile  clatter 
Proceed  one  another  to  flatter! 

After  repeating  this  stanza,  the  tree-spirit,  assuming  a 
fearful  shape,  scared  them  both  away. 

Cf.  Aesop,  The  Fox  and  the  Croie,  Babr.  77,  Halm  204,  Phaedr.  i.  13.  It  was 
known  to  Horace,  Sat.  n.  5.  56,  Ep.  i.  17.  50,  A.  P.  437.  In  Jat.  295  a  crow  on  a 
tree  Hatters  a  jackal  in  order  to  share  the  flesh  that  he  is  eating.  Jacobs  65.  It  is 
the  jackal  that  usually  takes  the  place  in  Indian  fables  of  the  fox  of  Aesop. 


Once  upon  a  time,  when  Brahmadatta  reigned  king  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  came  to  life  as  Sakka,  king  of 
the  gods.  At  that  time  a  Wolf  lived  on  a  rock  by  the 
Ganges  bank.  The  winter  floods  came  up  and  surrounded 
the  rock.  There  he  lay  upon  the  rock,  with  no  food  and 
no  way  of  getting  it.  The  water  rose  and  rose,  and  the 
wolf  pondered :  "  No  food  here,  and  no  way  to  get  it. 
Here  I  lie,  with  nothing  to  do.  I  may  as  well  keep  a  sabbath 
fast."  Thus  resolved  to  keep  a  sabbath,  as  he  lay  he 
solemnly  resolved  to  keep  the  religious  precepts.  Sakka  in 
his  meditations  perceived  the  wolf's  weak  resolve.  Thought 

THE   KING   AND   THE   FRUIT-GIRL         221 

he,  "  I'll  plague  that  wolf" ;  and  taking  the  shape  of  a  wild 
goat,  he  stood  near,  and  let  the  wolf  see  him. 

"  I'll  keep  sabbath  another  day ! "  thought  the  Wolf,  as 
he  spied  him ;  up  he  got,  and  leapt  at  the  creature.  But 
the  goat  jumped  about  so  that  the  Wolf  could  not  catch 
him.  When  our  Wolf  saw  that  he  could  not  catch  him, 
he  came  to  a  standstill,  and  went  back,  thinking  to  himself 
as  he  lay  down  again,  "Well,  my  sabbath  is  not  broken 
after  all." 

Then  Sakka,  by  his  divine  power,  hovered  above  in  the 
air ;  said  he, 

"  What  have  such  as  you,  all  unstable,  to  do  with  keep- 
ing a  sabbath  ?  You  didn't  know  that  I  was  Sakka, 
and  wanted  a  meal  of  goafs-flesh ! "  and  thus  plaguing 
and  rebuking  him,  he  returned  to  the  world  of  the  gods. 

A  variant  of  De  lupo  et  ariete  of  Marie  de  France  (L,  Roquefort,  LXXIII.),  in 
Berekhyah  ha-Naqdan,  Mishle  Shu'allm  36.  It  occurs  as  follows  in  the  Paris 
Promptuarium  Exemplorum,  20  (a  work  dependent  on  Marie) :  De  lupo  uouente, 
quod  lion  comederet  carnes  per  totum  XL.  Qui  duni  iret  per  siluam,  uidit  vnum 
pinguem  arietem  soluni.  Qui  dixit  in  corde  suo,  quod  uotum  amplius  non  seruaret, 
sed  comederet  mutonem  loco  salmonis,  qui  carius  emitur.  Jacobs  172,  gives  a 
translation  of  the  Hebrew. 

Cf.  Lessing's  fable,  n.  4,  of  The  Wolf  on  his  Deathbed,  who  confesses  his  sins, 
but  remembers  that  he  once  refrained  from  devouring  a  lamb,  and  took  no  notice 
of  the  mockery  of  a  sheep.  The  fox  reminds  him  that  it  was  at  the  time  when  he 
was  afflicted  with  the  bone  in  his  throat.  See  Jat.  308,  p.  223. 


Once  upon  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  king  at 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  his  minister  and  his  temporal 
and  spiritual  adviser. 

Now  one  day  the  king  stood  at  an  open  window  looking 
into  the  palace  court.  And  at  this  very  moment  the 
daughter  of  a  fruiterer,  a  beautiful  girl  in  the  flower  of 
her  youth,  stood  with  a  basket  of  jujubes  on  her  head 

222         THE   KING  AND   THE  FRUIT-GIRL 

crying,  "Jujubes,  ripe  jujubes,  who'll  buy  my  jujubes?" 
But  she  did  not  venture  into  the  royal  court. 

And  the  king  no  sooner  heard  her  voice  than  he  fell  in 
love  with  her,  and  when  he  learned  that  she  was  un- 
married he  sent  for  her  and  raised  her  to  the  dignity  of 
chief  queen,  and  bestowed  great  honour  upon  her.  Now 
she  was  dear  and  pleasing  in  the  king's  eyes.  And  one 
day  the  king  sat  eating  jujubes  in  a  golden  dish.  And  the 
queen  Sujata,  when  she  saw  the  king  eating  jujubes,  asked 
him,  saying,  "  My  lord,  what  in  the  world  are  you  eating  ? " 
And  she  uttered  the  first  stanza : 

What  is  this  egg-shaped  fruit,  my  lord,  so  pretty  and  red  of  hue, 
In  a  gold  dish  set  before  thee?    Pray  tell  me,  where  they  grew. 

And  the  king  was  wroth  and  said,  "O  daughter  of  a 
greengrocer,  dealer  in  ripe  jujubes,  do  you  not  recognise 
the  jujubes,  the  special  fruit  of  your  own  family  ? "  And 
he  repeated  two  stanzas : 

Bare-headed  and  meanly  clad,  my  queen,  thou  once  didst  feel  no  shame, 
To  fill  thy  lap  with  the  jujube  fruit,  and  now  thou  dost  ask  its  name; 

Thou  art  eaten  up  with  pride,  my  queen,  thou  findest  no  pleasure  in  life, 
Begone  and  gather  thy  jujubes  again.    Thou  shalt  be  no  longer  my  wife. 

Then  the  Bodhisatta  thought,  "  No  one,  except  myself, 
will  be  able  to  reconcile  this  pair.  I  will  appease  the 
king's  anger  and  prevent  him  from  turning  her  out  of 
doors."  Then  he  repeated  the  fourth  stanza: 

These  are  the  sins  of  a  woman,  my  lord,  promoted  to  high  estate : 
Forgive  her  and  cease  from  thine  anger,  0  king,  for  'twas  thou  didst 
make  her  great. 

So  the  king  at  his  word  put  up  with  the  offence  of  the 
queen  and  restored  her  to  her  former  position.  And 
thenceforth  they  lived  amicably  together. 

Ja.t  108  (Buddhaghosha  xvr.,  The  Modest  Girl)  is  a  similar  tale  of  a  king  who 
marries  a  village  girl  because  of  her  good  behaviour.     The  ballad  of  king  Cophetua 


and  the  beggar-maid  (Percy's  Rel.  i.  189,  ed.  1876)  appears  to  have  been  known  to 
Shakspere,  cf.  L.  L.  L.  i.  90,  311  and  iv.  1.  66.  It  contains  the  same  feature  as  the 

She  had  forgot  her  gowiie  of  gray, 

Which  she  did  weare  of  late. 
The  proverb  old  is  come  to  passe, 
The  priest,  when  he  begins  his  masse, 
Forgets  that  ever  clerke  he  was. 

The  tale  is  here  told  of  a  previous  birth  of  Pasenadi,  king  of  Kosala,  who  wished 
to  marry  into  the  Sakya  clan,  but  was  tricked  into  marrying  a  slave-girl,  the  daughter 
of  a  Sakyan  prince. 


Once  upon  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  came  to  life  as  a  woodpecker  in 
the  Himalaya  country. 

Now  a  certain  lion,  while  devouring  his  prey,  had  a 
bone  stick  in  his  throat.  His  throat  swelled  up  so  that 
he  could  not  take  any  food  and  severe  pains  set  in.  Then 
this  woodpecker,  while  intent  on  seeking  its  own  food,  as 
it  was  perched  on  a  bough,  saw  the  lion  and  asked  him, 
saying,  "  Friend,  what  ails  you  ? "  He  told  him  what  was 
the  matter,  and  the  bird  said,  "  I  would  take  the  bone  out 
of  your  throat,  friend,  but  I  dare  not  put  my  head  into 
your  mouth,  for  fear  you  should  eat  me  up.'1 

"  Do  not  be  afraid,  friend ;  I  will  not  eat  you  up.  Only 
save  my  life." 

"  All  right,"  said  the  bird,  and  ordered  the  lion  to  lie 
down  upon  his  side.  Then  it  thought :  "  Who  knows  what 
this  fellow  will  be  about?"  And  to  prevent  his  closing 
his  mouth,  it  fixed  a  stick  between  his  upper  and  lower 
jaw,  and  then  entering  into  the  lion's  mouth,  it  struck 
the  end  of  the  bone  with  its  beak.  The  bone  fell  out  and 


disappeared.  And  then  the  woodpecker  came  out  of  the 
lion's  mouth,  and  with  a  blow  from  its  beak  knocked  out 
the  stick,  and  hopping  off  sat  on  the  top  of  a  bough. 

The  lion  recovered  from  his  sickness,  and  one  day  was 
devouring  a  wild  buffalo  which  he  had  killed.  Thought 
the  woodpecker :  "  I  will  now  put  him  to  the  test,"  and 
perching  on  a  bough  above  the  lion's  head,  it  fell  to  con- 
versing with  him  and  uttered  the  first  stanza : 

Kindness  as  much  as  in  us  lay, 
To  thee,  my  lord,  we  once  did  shew : 

On  us  in  turn,  we  humbly  pray, 
Do  thou  a  trifling  boon  bestow. 

On  hearing  this  the  lion  repeated  the  second  stanza : 

To  trust  thy  head  to  a  lion's  jaw, 
A  creature  red  in  tooth  and  claw, 
To  dare  such  a  deed  and  be  living  still, 
Is  token  enough  of  my  good  will. 

The  woodpecker  on  hearing  this  uttered  two  more 
stanzas : 

From  the  base  ingrate  hope  not  to  obtain 
The  due  requital  of  good  service  done; 

From  bitter  thought  and  angry  word  refrain, 
But  haste  the  presence  of  the  wretch  to  shun. 

With  these  words  the  woodpecker  flew  away. 

Tib.  T.  xxvii.,  Jdtakamdla,  xxxiv.,  Aesop,  The  Wolf  and  the  Crane,  Babr.  94, 
Halm  276,  Phaedr.  I.  8.     Cf.  Jacobs  55. 


Once  upon  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  came  to  life  as  a  young  hare  and 
lived  in  a  wood.  On  one  side  of  this  wood  was  the  foot  of 
a  mountain,  on  another  side  a  river,  and  on  the  third  side 
a  border-village.  The  hare  had  three  friends — a  monkey, 
a  jackal  and  an  otter.  These  four  wise  creatures  lived 
together  and  each  of  them  got  his  food  on  his  own 
hunting- ground,  and  in  the  evening  they  again  came 
together.  The  hare  in  his  wisdom  by  way  of  admonition 
preached  the  Truth  to  his  three  companions,  teaching 
that  alms  are  to  be  given,  the  moral  law  to  be  observed, 
and  holy  days  to  be  kept.  They  accepted  his  admonition 
and  went  each  to  his  own  part  of  the  jungle  and  dwelt 

And  so  in  the  course  of  time  the  Bodhisatta  one  day 
observing  the  sky,  and  looking  at  the  moon  knew  that 
the  next  day  would  be  a  fast-day,  and  addressing  his  three 
companions  he  said,  "To-morrow  is  a  fast-day.  Let  all 
three  of  you  take  upon  you  the  moral  precepts,  and 
observe  the  holy  day.  To  one  that  stands  fast  in  moral 
practice,  almsgiving  brings  a  great  reward.  Therefore 
feed  any  beggars  that  come  to  you  by  giving  them  food 
from  your  own  table."  They  readily  assented,  and  abode 
each  in  his  own  place  of  dwelling. 

On  the  morrow  quite  early  in  the  morning,  the  otter 
sallied  forth  to  seek  his  prey  and  went  down  to  the  bank 
of  the  Ganges.  Now  it  came  to  pass  that  a  fisherman  had 
landed  seven  red  fish,  and  stringing  them  together  on  a 
withe,  he  had  taken  and  buried  them  in  the  sand  on 
the  river's  bank.  And  then  he  dropped  down  the  stream, 

F.  &  T.  15 


catching  more  fish.  The  otter  scenting  the  buried  fish,  dug 
up  the  sand  till  he  came  upon  them,  and  pulling  them 
out  cried  thrice,  "Does  anyone  own  these  fish?"  And 
not  seeing  any  owner  he  took  hold  of  the  withe  with  his 
teeth  and  laid  the  fish  in  the  jungle  where  he  dwelt, 
intending  to  eat  them  at  a  fitting  time.  And  then  he  lay 
down,  thinking  how  virtuous  he  was !  The  jackal  too 
sallied  forth  in  quest  of  food  and  found  in  the  hut  of  a 
field-watcher  two  spits,  a  lizard  and  a  pot  of  milk-curd. 
And  after  thrice  crying  aloud,  "  To  whom  do  these  belong?" 
and  not  finding  an  owner,  he  put  on  his  neck  the  rope  for 
lifting  the  pot,  and  grasping  the  spits  and  the  lizard  with 
his  teeth,  he  brought  and  laid  them  in  his  own  lair,  think- 
ing, "  In  due  season  I  will  devour  them,"  and  so  lay  down, 
reflecting  how  virtuous  he  had  been. 

The  monkey  also  entered  the  clump  of  trees,  and 
gathering  a  bunch  of  mangoes  laid  them  up  in  his  part  of 
the  jungle,  meaning  to  eat  them  in  due  season,  and  then 
lay  down,  thinking  how  virtuous  he  was.  But  the  Bodhi- 
satta  in  due  time  came  out,  intending  to  browse  on  the 
kusa-grass,  and  as  he  lay  in  the  jungle,  the  thought 
occurred  to  him,  "It  is  impossible  for  me  to  offer  grass 
to  any  beggars  that  may  chance  to  appear,  and  I  have  no 
sesame,  rice,  and  such  like.  If  any  beggar  shall  appeal  to 
me,  I  shall  have  to  give  him  my  own  flesh  to  eat."  At  this 
splendid  display  of  virtue,  Sakka's  white  marble  throne 
manifested  signs  of  heat.  Sakka  on  reflection  discovered 
the  cause  and  resolved  to  put  this  royal  hare  to  the  test. 
First  of  all  he  wrent  and  stood  by  the  otter's  dwelling-place, 
disguised  as  a  brahmin,  and  being  asked  why  he  stood 
there,  he  replied,  "Wise  Sir,  if  I  could  get  something 
to  eat,  after  keeping  the  fast,  I  would  perform  all  my 
ascetic  duties."  The  otter  replied,  "  Very  well,  I  will  give 


you  some  food,"  and  as  he  conversed  with  him  he  repeated 
the  first  stanza : 

Seven  red  fish  I  safely  brought  to  land  from  Ganges  flood, 
0  brahmin,  eat  thy  fill,  I  pray,  and  stay  within  this  wood. 

The  brahmin  said,  "Let  be  till  to-morrow.  I  will  see 
to  it  by  and  by."  Next  he  went  to  the  jackal,  and  when 
asked  by  him  why  he  stood  there,  he  made  the  same 
answer.  The  jackal,  too,  readily  promised  him  some 
food,  and  in  talking  with  him  repeated  the  second 
stanza  : 

A  lizard  aud  a  jar  of  curds,  the  keeper's  evening'  meal, 

Two  spits  of  roasted  flesh  withal  I  wrongfully  did  steal: 

Such  as  I  have  I  give  to  thee:  0  brahmin,  eat,  I  pray, 

If  thou  shouldst  deign  within  this  wood  a  while  with  us  to  stay. 

Said  the  brahmin,  "Let  be  till  to-morrow.  I  will  see 
to  it  by  and  by."  Then  he  went  to  the  monkey,  and 
when  asked  what  he  meant  by  standing  there,  he  answered 
just  as  before.  The  monkey  readily  offered  him  some  food, 
and  in  conversing  with  him  gave  utterance  to  the  third 
stanza : 

An  icy  stream,  a  mango  ripe,  and  pleasant  greenwood  shade, 
'Tis  thine  to  enjoy,  if  thou  canst  dwell  content  in  forest  glade. 

Said  the  brahmin,  "Let  be  till  to-morrow.  I  will  see 
to  it  by  and  by."  And  he  went  to  the  wise  hare,  and  on 
being  asked  by  him  why  he  stood  there,  he  made  the 
same  reply.  The  Bodhisatta  on  hearing  what  he  wanted 
was  highly  delighted,  and  said,  "  Brahmin,  you  have  done 
well  in  coming  to  me  for  food.  This  day  will  I  grant  you 
a  boon  that  I  have  never  granted  before,  but  you  shall 
not  break  the  moral  law  by  taking  animal  life.  Go,  friend, 
and  when  you  have  piled  together  logs  of  wood,  and 
kindled  a  fire,  come  and  let  me  know,  and  I  will  sacrifice 
myself  by  falling  into  the  midst  of  the  flames,  and  when 



my  body  is  roasted,  you  shall  eat  my  flesh  and  fulfil  all 
your  ascetic  duties."  And  in  thus  addressing  him  the  hare 
uttered  the  fourth  stanza : 

Nor  sesame,  nor  beans,  nor  rice  have  I  as  food  to  give, 

But  roast  with  fire  my  flesh  I  yield,  if  thou  with  us  wouldst  live. 

Sakka,  on  hearing  what  he  said,  by  his  miraculous 
power  caused  a  heap  of  burning  coals  to  appear,  and 
came  and  told  the  Bodhisatta.  Rising  from  his  bed  of 
kusa-grass  and  coming  to  the  place,  he  thrice  shook  him- 
self that  if  there  were  any  insects  within  his  coat,  they 
might  escape  death.  Then  offering  his  whole  body  as  a 
free  gift  he  sprang  up,  and  like  a  royal  swan,  alighting  on 
a  cluster  of  lotuses,  in  an  ecstasy  of  joy  he  fell  on  the  heap 
of  live  coals.  But  the  flame  failed  even  to  heat  the  pores 
of  the  hair  on  the  body  of  the  Bodhisatta,  and  it  was  as 
if  he  had  entered  a  region  of  frost.  Then  he  addressed 
Sakka  in  these  words :  "  Brahmin,  the  fire  you  have 
kindled  is  icy-cold :  it  fails  to  heat  even  the  pores  of  the 
hair  on  my  body.  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  ? "  "  Wise 
Sir,"  he  replied,  "  I  am  no  brahmin.  I  am  Sakka,  and 
I  have  come  to  put  your  virtue  to  the  test."  The  Bodhi- 
satta said,  "  If  not  only  thou,  Sakka,  but  all  the  inhabitants 
of  the  world  were  to  try  me  in  this  matter  of  almsgiving, 
they  would  not  find  in  me  any  unwillingness  to  give,"  and 
with  this  the  Bodhisatta  uttered  a  cry  of  exultation  like 
a  lion  roaring.  Then  said  Sakka  to  the  Bodhisatta, 
"O  wise  hare,  be  thy  virtue  known  throughout  a  whole 
seon."  And  squeezing  the  mountain,  with  the  essence  thus 
extracted,  he  daubed  the  sign  of  a  hare  on  the  orb  of  the 
moon.  And  after  depositing  the  hare  on  a  bed  of  young 
kusa-grass,  in  the  same  wrooded  part  of  the  jungle,  Sakka 
returned  to  his  own  place  in  heaven.  And  these  four  wise 


creatures  dwelt  happily  and  harmoniously  together,  ful- 
filling the  moral  law  and  observing  holy  days,  till  they 
departed  to  fare  according  to  their  deeds. 

This  tale  is  apparently  not  found  outside  buddhist  sources.  Jatakamala  vi., 
Car.  Pit.  i.  10.  Hiuen  Thsang  Mem.  sur  les  Contrees  occidentales  tr.  Julien  i.  375. 
It  was  found  among  the  buddhist  Kalmuks  by  Pallas  in  1769  (Reise  (lurch  ver- 
schiedene  Provinzen  des  Rmsischen  Reichs.  i.  343)  and  by  Bergmann  in  1802  (Nom. 
Streif.  iii.  204).  The  sign  of  the  hare  in  the  moon  is  mentioned  in  Jat.  20  (p.  25), 
454,  P.  (T.)  in.  3,  (B.)  in.  1.  In  Sanskrit  the  moon  is  called  sasin  'having  a  hare,' 
as  well  as  mrgahka  and  harinahka  'having  the  mark  of  a  deer.'  Of.  Benf.  Einl. 
§  143.  In  works  on  folklore  the  story  is  sometimes  corrupted  by  making  Buddha, 
not  Sakka,  the  god  who  requires  the  sacrifice.  The  confusion  occurs  first  in  Douce's 
Illustrations  of  Shakspeare,  i.  16  (1807),  followed  by  Grimm,  and  Harley  Moan, 


Once  upon  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  reigned  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  came  to  life  as  a  young  singila 
bird.  And  when  he  grew  to  be  a  big  bird,  he  settled  in 
the  Himalaya  country  and  built  him  a  nest  to  his  fancy, 
that  was  proof  against  the  rain.  Then  a  certain  monkey  in 
the  rainy  season,  when  the  rain  fell  without  intermission, 
sat  near  the  Bodhisatta,  his  teeth  chattering  by  reason 
of  the  severe  cold.  The  Bodhisatta,  seeing  him  thus 
distressed,  fell  to  talking  with  him,  and  uttered  the  first 
stanza : 

Monkey,  in  feet  and  hands  and  face 

So  like  the  human  form, 
Why  buildest  thou  no  dwelling-place, 

To  hide  thee  from  the  storm? 

The  monkey,  on  hearing  this,  replied  with  a  second 
stanza : 

In  feet  and  hands  and  face,  0  bird, 

Thoug-h  close  to  man  allied, 
Wisdom,  chief  boon  on  him  conferred, 
To  me  has  been  denied. 


The  Bodhisatta,  on  hearing  this,  repeated  yet  two  more 
couplets : 

He  that  inconstancy  betrays,  a  light  and  fickle  mind, 
Unstable  proved  in  all  his  ways,  no  happiness  may  find. 

Monkey,  in  virtue  to  excel,  do  thou  thy  utmost  strive, 

And  safe  from  wintry  blast  to  dwell,  go,  hut  of  leaves  contrive. 

Thought  the  monkey,  "  This  creature,  though  dwelling 
in  a  place  that  is  sheltered  from  the  rain,  despises  me. 
I  will  not  suffer  him  to  rest  quietly  in  this  nest."  Accord- 
ingly, in  his  eagerness  to  catch  the  Bodhisatta,  he  made  a 
spring  upon  him.  But  the  Bodhisatta  flew  up  into  the 
air,  and  winged  his  way  elsewhere.  And  the  monkey, 
after  smashing  up  and  destroying  his  nest,  betook  him- 
self off. 

P.  (B.)  i.  18.  The  bird,  which  in  the  Panchatantra  is  an  example  of  the  folly  of 
misplaced  advice,  here  becomes  an  incarnation  of  the  All-enlightened  One.  In 
Purnabhadra's  recension  of  P.  it  is  iv.  9.  It  does  not  occur  in  T.,  but  a  variant 
is  found  in  the  corresponding  place  (i.  14)  in  which  the  monkeys  try  to  blow  a 
fire-fly  into  a  blaze,  and  finally  kill  the  officious  bird.  Som.  LX.  204  (ii.  39)  follows 
this  version. 


Once  upon  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  reigned  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  came  to  life  as  a  young  lion. 
And  when  fully  grown  he  lived  in  a  wood.  At  this  time 
there -was  near  the  Western  Ocean  a  grove  of  palms 
mixed  with  vilva  trees.  A  certain  hare  lived  here  beneath 
a  palm  sapling,  at  the  foot  of  a  vilva  tree.  One  day  this 
hare  after  feeding  came  and  lay  down  beneath  the  young- 
palm  tree.  And  the  thought  struck  him :  "  If  this  earth 
should  be  destroyed,  what  would  become  of  me?"  And 
at  this  very  moment  a  ripe  vilva  fruit  fell  on  a  palm  leaf. 


At  the  sound  of  it,  the  hare  thought :  "  This  solid  earth  is 
collapsing,"  and  starting  up  he  fled,  without  so  much  as 
looking  behind  him.  Another  hare  saw  him  scampering 
off,  as  if  frightened  to  death,  and  asked  the  cause  of  his 
panic  flight.  "Pray,  don't  ask  me,"  he  said.  The  other 
hare  cried,  "  Pray,  Sir,  what  is  it  ?  "  and  kept  running  after 
him.  Then  the  hare  stopped  a  moment  and  without  look- 
ing back  said,  "  The  earth  here  is  breaking  up."  And  at 
this  the  second  hare  ran  after  the  other.  And  so  first 
one  and  then  another  hare  caught  sight  of  him  running, 
and  joined  in  the  chase  till  one  hundred  thousand  hares 
all  took  to  flight  together.  They  were  seen  by  a  deer,  a 
boar,  an  elk,  a  buffalo,  a  wild  ox,  a  rhinoceros,  a  tiger, 
a  lion  and  an  elephant.  And  when  they  asked  what  it 
meant  and  were  told  that  the  earth  was  breaking  up,  they 
too  took  to  flight.  So  by  degrees  this  host  of  animals 
extended  to  the  length  of  a  full  league. 

When  the  Bodhisatta  saw  this  headlong  flight  of  the 
animals,  and  heard  the  cause  of  it  was  that  the  earth  was 
coming  to  an  end,  he  thought:  "The  earth  is  nowhere 
coming  to  an  end.  Surely  it  must  be  some  sound  which 
was  misunderstood  by  them.  And  if  I  don't  make  a  great 
effort,  they  will  all  perish.  I  will  save  their  lives."  So 
with  the  speed  of  a  lion  he  got  before  them  to  the  foot  of  a 
mountain,  and  lion-like  roared  three  times.  They  were 
terribly  frightened  at  the  lion,  and  stopping  in  their  flight 
stood  all  huddled  together.  The  lion  went  in  amongst 
them  and  asked  why  they  were  running  away. 

"  The  earth  is  collapsing,"  they  answered. 

"  Who  saw  it  collapsing  ? "  he  said. 

"  The  elephants  know  all  about  it,"  they  replied. 

He  asked  the  elephants.  "  We  don't  know,"  they  said, 
"the  lions  know."  But  the  lions  said,  "We  don't  know, 


the  tigers  know."  The  tigers  said,  "The  rhinoceroses 
know."  The  rhinoceroses  said,  "The  wild  oxen  know." 
The  wild  oxen,  "  the  buffaloes."  The  buffaloes,  "  the  elks." 
The  elks,  "the  boars."  The  boars,  "the  deer."  The  deer 
said,  "  We  don't  know,  the  hares  know."  When  the  hares 
were  questioned,  they  pointed  to  one  particular  hare  and 
said,  "  This  one  told  us." 

So  the  Bodhisatta  asked,  "  Is  it  true,  Sir,  that  the  earth 
is  breaking  up  ? " 

"  Yes,  Sir,  I  saw  it,"  said  the  hare. 

"Where,"    he   asked,    "were    you    living,    when    you 

•  i    n  »i 

saw  it  { 

"Near  the  ocean,  Sir,  in  a  grove  of  palms  mixed 
with  vilva  trees.  For  as  I  was  lying  beneath  the  shade 
of  a  palm  sapling  at  the  foot  of  a  vilva  tree,  methought, 
'  If  this  earth  should  break  up,  where  shall  I  go  ? '  And  at 
that  very  moment  I  heard  the  sound  of  the  breaking  up 
of  the  earth  and  I  fled." 

Thought  the  lion:  "A  ripe  vilva  fruit  evidently  must 
have  fallen  on  a  palm  leaf  and  made  a  'thud,'  and  this 
hare  jumped  to  the  conclusion  that  the  earth  was  coming 
to  an  end,  and  ran  away.  I  will  find  out  the  exact  truth 
about  it."  So  he  reassured  the  herd  of  animals,  and  said, 
"  I  will  take  the  hare  and  go  and  find  out  exactly  whether 
the  earth  is  coming  to  an  end  or  not,  in  the  place  pointed 
out  by  him.  Until  I  return,  do  you  stay  here."  Then 
placing  the  hare  on  his  back,  he  sprang  forward  with  the 
speed  of  a  lion,  and  putting  the  hare  down  in  the  palm 
grove,  he  said,  "  Come,  shew  us  the  place  you  meant." 

"  I  dare  not,  my  lord,"  said  the  hare. 

"  Come,  don't  be  afraid,"  said  the  lion. 

The  hare,  not  venturing  to  go  near  the  vilva  tree, 
stood  afar  off  and  cried,  "Yonder,  Sir,  is  the  place  of 


c  u 



n  :}-24.  fin,  win'*.  j>/>.   -'.}:].  234) 



dreadful   sound,"   and   so   saying,  he   repeated   the  first 

stanza : 

From  the  spot  where  I  did  dwell 

Issued  forth  a  fearful  'thud'; 
What  it  was  I  could  not  tell, 

Nor  what  caused  it  understood. 

After  hearing  what  the  hare  said,  the  lion  went  to  the 
foot  of  the  vilva  tree,  and  saw  the  spot  where  the  hare 
had  been  lying  beneath  the  shade  of  the  palm  tree,  and 
the  ripe  vilva  fruit  that  fell  on  the  palm  leaf,  and  having 
carefully  ascertained  that  the  earth  had  not  broken 
up,  he  placed  the  hare  on  his  back  and  with  the  speed  of 
a  lion  soon  came  again  to  the  herd  of  beasts. 

Then  he  told  them  the  whole  story,  and  said,  "  Don't 
be  afraid."  And  having  thus  reassured  the  herd  of  beasts, 
he  let  them  go.  Verily,  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  Bodhi- 
satta  at  that  time,  all  the  beasts  would  have  rushed  into 
the  sea  and  perished.  It  was  all  owing  to  the  Bodhisatta 
that  they  escaped  death. 

Tib.  T.  xxii.     The  Flight  of  the  Beasts. 


Once  upon  a  time  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  in  a 
merchant  family  and  plied  his  trade.  At  that  time  a 
certain  religious  mendicant,  clad  in  a  leather  garment,  in 
going  his  rounds  for  alms,  came  to  the  rams'  fighting 
ground,  and  on  seeing  a  ram  falling  back  before  him,  he 
fancied  it  did  this  as  a  mark  of  respect,  and  did  not  him- 
self retire.  "  In  the  whole  world,"  he  thought,  "  this  ram 
alone  recognises  my  merits,"  and  raising  his  joined  hands  in 
respectful  salutation  he  stood  and  repeated  the  first  stanza: 

The  kindly  beast  obeisance  makes  before 
The  high-caste  brahmin  versed  in  holy  lore. 

Good  honest  creature  thou, 
Famous  above  all  other  beasts,  I  vow! 


At  this  moment  the  wise  merchant  sitting  in  his  stores, 
to  restrain  the  mendicant,  uttered  the  second  stanza : 

Brahmin,  be  not  so  rash  this  beast  to  trust, 
Else  will  he  haste  to  lay  thee  in  the  dust, 

For  this  the  ram  falls  back, 
To  grain  an  impetus  for  his  attack. 

While  this  wise  merchant  was  still  speaking,  the  ram 
came  on  at  full  speed,  and  striking  the  mendicant  on  the 
thigh,  knocked  him  down.  He  was  maddened  with  the  pain 
and  lay  groaning.  The  Master,  to  explain  the  incident,  gave 
utterance  to  the  third  stanza : 

With  broken  leg  and  bowl  for  alms  upset, 

His  damaged  fortune  he  will  sore  regret. 

Let  him  not  weep  with  outstretched  arms  in  vain, 

Haste  to  the  rescue,  ere  the  priest  is  slain. 

Then  the  mendicant  repeated  the  fourth  stanza : 

Thus  all  that  honour  to  the  unworthy  pay, 
Share  the  same  fate  that  I  have  met  to-day; 
Prone  in  the  dust  by  butting  ram  laid  low 
To  foolish  confidence  my  death  I  owe. 

Thus  lamenting  he  there  and  then  came  by  his  death. 

Illustrated  on  the  Bharhut  Stupa,  pi.  XLI.  1  and  3. 


Once  upon  a  time  when  Bramadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  into  a  brahmin  family. 
And  when  he  grew  up,  he  studied  all  the  arts  at  Takkasila 
and  then  returned  to  his  parents.  In  this  Birth  the 
Great  Being  became  a  holy  young  student.  Then  his 
parents  told  him  they  wrould  look  out  a  wife  for  him. 

"  I  have  no  desire  for  a  married  life,"  said  the  Bodhi- 
satta. "When  you  are  dead,  I  will  adopt  the  religious  life 
of  an  ascetic." 


And  being  greatly  importuned  by  them,  he  had  a 
golden  image  made,  and  said,  "  If  you  can  find  me  a 
maiden  like  unto  this,  I  will  take  her  to  wife."  His 
parents  sent  forth  some  emissaries  with  a  large  escort, 
and  bade  them  place  the  golden  image  in  a  covered 
carriage  and  go  and  search  through  the  plains  of  India, 
till  they  found  just  such  a  young  brahmin  girl,  when  they 
were  to  give  this  golden  image  in  exchange,  and  bring  the 
girl  back  with  them.  Now  at  this  time  a  certain  holy 
man  passing  from  the  Brahma  world  was  born  again  in 
the  form  of  a  young  girl  in  a  town  in  the  kingdom  of 
Kasi,  in  the  house  of  a  brahmin  worth  eighty  crores,  and 
the  name  given  her  was  Sammillabhasini.  At  the  age  of 
sixteen  she  was  a  fair  and  gracious  maiden,  like  to  an 
Apsaras,  endued  with  all  the  marks  of  female  beauty. 
And  since  no  thought  of  evil  was  ever  suggested  to  her 
by  the  power  of  sinful  passion,  she  was  perfectly  pure. 
So  the  men  took  the  golden  image  and  wandered  about 
till  they  reached  this  village.  The  inhabitants  on  seeing 
the  image  asked,  "  Why  is  SammillabhasinI,  the  daughter 
of  such  and  such  a  brahmin,  placed  there?"  The  mes- 
sengers on  hearing  this  found  the  brahmin  family,  and 
chose  SammillabhasinI  for  the  young  man's  bride.  She 
sent  a  message  to  her  parents,  saying,  "  When  you  are  dead, 
I  shall  adopt  the  religious  life ;  I  have  no  desire  for  the 
married  state."  They  said,  "What  art  thou  thinking  of, 
maiden  ? "  And  accepting  the  golden  image  they  sent  off 
their  daughter  with  a  great  retinue.  The  marriage  cere- 
mony took  place  against  the  wishes  of  both  the  Bodhisatta 
and  SammillabhasinI.  Though  sharing  the  same  room 
and  the  same  bed  they  did  not  regard  one  another  with 
the  eye  of  passion,  but  dwelt  together  like  two  holy  men  or 
two  female  saints. 


By  and  by  the  father  and  mother  of  the  Bodhisatta 
died.  He  performed  their  funeral  rites  and  calling  to 
him  Sammillabhasim,  said  to  her,  "My  dear,  my  family 
property  amounts  to  eighty  crores,  and  yours  too  is  worth 
another  eighty  crores.  Take  all  this  and  enter  upon  house- 
hold life.  I  shall  become  an  ascetic." 

"Sir,"  she  answered,  "if  you  become  an  ascetic,  I  will 
become  one  too.  I  cannot  forsake  you.' 


"  Come  then,"  he  said.  So  spending  all  their  wealth  in 
almsgiving  and  throwing  up  their  worldly  fortune  as  it 
were  a  lump  of  phlegm,  they  journeyed  into  the  Himalaya 
country  and  both  of  them  adopted  the  ascetic  life.  There 
after  living  for  a  long  time  on  wild  fruits  and  roots,  they 
at  length  came  down  from  the  Himalayas  to  procure  salt 
and  vinegar,  and  gradually  found  their  way  to  Benares, 
and  dwelt  in  the  royal  grounds.  And  while  they  were  living 
there,  this  young  and  delicate  female  ascetic,  from  eating 
insipid  rice  of  a  mixed  quality,  was  attacked  by  dysentery 
and  not  being  able  to  get  any  healing  remedies,  she  grew 
very  weak.  The  Bodhisatta  at  the  time  for  going  his 
rounds  to  beg  for  alms,  took  hold  of  her  and  carried  her 
to  the  gate  of  the  city  and  there  laid  her  on  a  bench  in  a 
certain  hall,  and  himself  went  into  the  citv  for  alms.  He  had 


scarce  gone  out  when  she  expired.  The  people,  beholding 
the  great  beauty  of  this  female  ascetic,  thronged  about 
her,  weeping  and  lamenting.  The  Bodhisatta  after  going 
his  round  of  begging  returned,  and  hearing  of  her  death 
he  said,  "That  which  has  the  quality  of  dissolution  is 
dissolved.  All  impermanent  existences  are  of  this  kind." 
With  these  words  he  sat  down  on  the  bench  whereon  she 
lay  and  eating  the  mixture  of  food  he  rinsed  out  his  mouth. 
The  people  that  stood  by  gathered  round  him  and  said, 
"  Reverend  Sir,  what  was  this  female  ascetic  to  you  ? " 


"  When  I  was  a  layman,"  he  replied,  "  she  was  my  wife." 
"  Holy  Sir,"  they  said,  "  while  we  weep  and  lament  and 
cannot  control  our  feelings,  why  do  you  not  weep  ? ' 

The  Bodhisatta  said, "  While  she  was  alive,  she  belonged 
to  me  in  some  sort.  Nothing  belongs  to  her  that  is 
gone  to  another  world:  she  has  passed  into  the  power 
of  others.  Wherefore  should  I  weep?"  And  teaching 
the  people  the  Truth,  he  recited  these  stanzas: 

Why  should  I  shed  tears  for  thee, 
Fair  Sammillabhasim  ? 
Passed  to  death's  majority 
Thou  art  henceforth  lost  to  me. 

Wherefore  should  frail  man  lament 
What  to  him  is  only  lent? 
He  too  draws  his  mortal  breath 
Forfeit  every  hour  to  death. 

Be  he  standing1,  sitting1  still, 
Moving1,  resting1,  what  he  will, 
In  the  twinkling1  of  an  eye, 
In  a  moment  death  is  nig-h. 

Life  I  count  a  thing-  unstable, 
Loss  of  friends  inevitable. 
Cherish  all  that  are  alive, 
Sorrow  not  shouldst  thou  survive. 

Thus  did  the  Great  Being  teach  the  Truth,  illustrating 
by  these  four  stanzas  the  impermanence  of  things.  The 
people  performed  funeral  rites  over  the  female  ascetic. 
And  the  Bodhisatta  returned  to  the  Himalayas,  and 
entering  on  the  higher  knowledge  arising  from  mystic 
meditation  was  destined  to  birth  in  the  Brahma-world. 

The  variant  in  Tib.  T.  ix.  is  converted  into  a  story  contemporary  with  Buddha, 
and  the  hero  becomes  the  buddhist  elder  Mahakassapa.  The  incident  of  the  golden 
image  occurs  also  in  Jat.  531,  The  Ugly  Bridegroom. 


This  was  a  story  told  by  the  Master  when  at  Jetavana,  about  a  brahmin  who 
was  ever  proving  his  virtue.  Two  similar  stories  have  been  told  before1.  In  this 
case  the  Bodhisatta  was  the  family  priest  of  the  king  of  Benares. 

In  testing  his  virtue  he  for  three  days  took  a  coin 
from  the  royal  treasurer's  board.  They  informed  against 
him  as  a  thief,  and  when  brought  before  the  king,  he 

said  : 

Power  on  earth  beyond  compare, 

Thus  virtue  owns  a  wondrous  charm-. 
Putting1  on  a  virtuous  air 
The  deadly  snake  escapes  all  harm. 

After  thus  praising  virtue  in  the  first  stanza,  he  gained 
the  king's  consent  and  adopted  the  ascetic  life.  Now 
a  hawk  seized  a  piece  of  meat  in  a  butcher's  shop  and 
darted  up  into  the  air.  The  other  birds  surrounded  him 
and  struck  at  him  with  feet,  claws  and  beaks.  Unable  to 
bear  the  pain  he  dropped  the  piece  of  meat.  Another 
bird  seized  it.  It  too  in  like  manner  being  hard  pressed 
let  the  meat  fall.  Then  another  bird  pounced  on  it,  and 
whosoever  got  the  meat  was  pursued  by  the  rest,  and  who- 
soever let  it  go  was  left  in  peace.  The  Bodhisatta  on 
seeing  this  thought,  "  These  desires  of  ours  are  like  pieces 
of  meat.  To  those  that  grasp  at  them  is  sorrow,  and  to 
those  that  let  them  go  is  peace."  And  he  repeated  the 
second  stanza : 

While  the  bird  had  aught  to  eat, 

Ospreys  pecked  at  him  full  sore, 
When  perforce  he  dropped  the  meat, 

Then  they  pecked  at  him  no  more. 

The  ascetic  going  forth  from  the  city,  in  the  course  of 
his  journey  came  to  a  village,  and  at  evening  lay  down  in 

1  Jat.  86  and  290.  The  above  passage  is  a  very  brief  example  of  a  Story  of  the 
Present ;  for  other  examples  see  pp.  78,  243. 


a  certain  man's  house.  Now  a  female  slave  there  named 
Pingala  made  an  assignation  with  a  man,  saying,  "You 
are  to  come  at  such  and  such  an  hour."  After  she  had 
bathed  the  feet  of  her  master  and  his  family,  when  they 
had  lain  down,  she  sat  on  the  threshold,  looking  out  for 
the  coming  of  her  lover,  and  passed  the  first  and  the 
middle  watch,  repeating  to  herself,  "Now  he  will  be 
coming,"  but  at  daybreak,  losing  hope,  she  said,  "  He  will 
not  come  now,"  and  lay  down  and  fell  asleep.  The  Bodhi- 
satta  seeing  this  happen  said,  "  This  woman  sat  ever  so 
long  in  the  hope  that  her  lover  would  come,  but  now  that 
she  knows  he  will  not  come,  in  her  despair,  she  slumbers 
peacefully."  And  with  the  thought  that  while  hope  in 
the  passions  brings  sorrow,  despair  brings  peace,  he  uttered 
the  third  stanza : 

The  fruit  of  hope  f ulfiUed  is  bliss ; 
How  differs  loss  of  hope  from  this? 
Though  dull  despair  her  hope  destroys, 
Lo!   Pingala  calm  sleep  enjoys. 

Next  day  going  forth  from  that  village  he  entered  into 
a  forest,  and  beholding  a  hermit  seated  on  the  ground  and 
indulging  in  meditation  he  thought,  "  Both  in  this  world 
and  in  the  next  there  is  no  happiness  beyond  the  bliss  of 
meditation."  And  he  repeated  the  fourth  stanza : 

In  this  world  and  in  worlds  to  be 

Nought  can  surpass  ecstatic  joy: 
To  holy  calm  a  devotee, 

Himself  unharmed,  will  none  annoy. 

Then  he  went  into  the  forest  and  adopted  the  ascetic 
life  of  a  Rishi  and  developed  the  higher  knowledge  born 
of  meditation,  and  became  destined  to  birth  in  the  Brahma- 

The  first  episode  of  the  testing  of  virtue  is  given  in  Jat.  290  and  362,  and  more 
fully  in  Jat.  86.     In  the  latter  the  Bodhisatta,  when  being  brought  before  the  king, 

240       A   KING'S   LIFE   SAVED   BY   SPELLS 

sees  a  performing  snake,  and  is  told  that  it  will  not  bite,  as  it  is  good.  This  explains 
the  reference  to  the  snake  in  the  first  stanza. 

The  episodes  of  the  hawk  and  of  Pirigala  are  referred  to  in  the  Sahkhya 
Aphorisms  iv.  5  and  11,  and  according  to  Franke  probably  come  from  a  source 
which  is  the  common  source  of  the  jataka  and  of  the  stories  as  given  in  Mbh.  xn. 
chs.  174,  178. 

In  the  second  stanza  ospreys  are  spoken  of,  as  in  the  Mbh.,  although  the  prose 
speaks  of  a  hawk.  K.  D.  (Arab.)  iv.  also  has  a  hawk.  Cf.  the  similar  confusion  in 
Jat.  218,  p.  180. 


Once  upon  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  reigned  in  Be- 
nares, the  Bodhisatta  was  a  far-famed  teacher  at  Takkasila 
and  trained  many  young  princes  and  sons  of  brahmins  in 
the  arts.  Now  the  son  of  the  king  of  Benares,  when  he 
was  sixteen  years  old,  came  to  him  and  after  he  had 
acquired  the  three  Vedas  and  all  the  liberal  arts  and 
was  perfect  in  them,  he  took  leave  of  his  master.  The 
teacher  regarding  him  by  his  gift  of  prognostication 
thought,  "  There  is  danger  coming  to  this  man  through  his 
son.  By  my  magic  power  I  will  deliver  him  from  it."  And 
composing  four  stanzas  he  gave  them  to  the  young  prince 
and  spoke  as  follows :  "  My  son,  after  you  are  seated  on 
the  throne,  when  your  sou  is  sixteen  years  old,  utter  the 
first  stanza  while  eating  your  rice ;  repeat  the  second 
stanza  at  the  time  of  the  great  levee ;  the  third,  as  you 
are  ascending  to  the  palace  roof,  standing  at  the  head  of 
the  stairs,  and  the  fourth,  when  entering  the  royal  chamber, 
as  you  stand  on  the  threshold." 

The  prince  readily  assented  to  this  and  saluting  his 
teacher  went  away.  And  after  acting  as  viceroy,  on  his 
father's  death  he  ascended  the  throne.  His  son,  when  he  was 
sixteen  years  of  age,  on  the  king's  going  forth  to  take  his 

A  KING'S   LIFE  SAVED   BY   SPELLS       241 

pleasure  in  the  garden,  observing  his  father's  majesty  and 
power  was  filled  with  a  desire  to  kill  him  and  seize  upon 
his  kingdom,  and  spoke  to  his  attendants  about  it.  They 
said,  "True,  Sir,  what  is  the  good  of  obtaining  power, 
when  one  is  old  ?  You  must  by  some  means  or  other  kill 
the  king  and  possess  yourself  of  his  kingdom."  The 
prince  said,  "  I  will  kill  him  by  putting  poison  in  his  food." 
So  he  took  some  poison  and  sat  down  to  eat  his  evening 
meal  with  his  father.  The  king,  when  the  rice  was  just 
served  in  the  bowl,  spoke  the  first  stanza: 

With  sense  so  nice,  the  husks  from  rice 

Eats  keen  are  to  discriminate: 
They  cared  not  much  the  husks  to  touch, 

But  grain  by  grain  the  rice  they  ate. 

"  I  am  discovered,"  thought  the  prince,  and  not  daring 
to  administer  the  poison  in  the  bowl  of  rice,  he  rose  up 
and  bowing  to  the  king  went  away.  He  told  the  story  to 
his  attendants  and  said,  "  To-day  I  am  found  out.  How  now 
shall  I  kill  him  ? "  From  this  day  forth  they  lay  concealed 
in  the  garden,  and  consulting  together  in  whispers  said, 
"There  is  still  one  expedient.  When  it  is  time  to  attend  the 
great  levee,  gird  on  your  sword,  and  taking  your  stand 
amongst  the  councillors,  when  you  see  the  king  off*  his 
guard,  you  must  strike  him  a  blow  with  your  sword  and 
kill  him."  Thus  they  arranged  it.  The  prince  readily 
agreed,  and  at  the  time  of  the  great  levee,  he  girt  on  his 
sword  and  moving  about  from  place  to  place  looked  out 
for  an  opportunity  to  strike  the  king.  At  this  moment  the 
king  uttered  the  second  stanza : 

The  secret  counsel  taken  in  the  wood 

By  me  is  understood: 
The  village  plot  soft  whispered  in  the  ear 

That  too  I  hear. 

F.  *  T.  16 

242        A  KING'S   LIFE  SAVED   BY   SPELLS 

Thought  the  prince,  "  My  father  knows  that  I  am  his 
enemy,"  and  ran  away  and  told  his  attendants.  After  the 
lapse  of  seven  or  eight  days  they  said, "  Prince,  your  father 
is  ignorant  of  your  feeling  towards  him.  You  only  fancy 
this  in  your  own  mind.  Put  him  to  death."  So  one  day 
he  took  his  sword  and  stood  at  the  top  of  the  stairs  in  the 
royal  closet.  The  king  standing  at  the  head  of  the  stair- 
case spoke  the  third  stanza: 

A  monkey  once  did  cruel  measures  take 
His  tender  offspring-  impotent  to  make. 

Thought  the  prince,  "My  father  wants  to  seize  me," 
and  in  his  terror  he  fled  away  and  told  his  attendants  he 
had  been  threatened  by  his  father.  After  the  lapse  of  a 
fortnight  they  said,  "  Prince,  if  the  king  knew  this,  he 
would  not  have  put  up  with  it  so  long  a  time.  Your 
imagination  suggests  this  to  you.  Put  him  to  death."  So 
one  day  he  took  his  sword  and  entering  the  royal  chamber 
on  the  upper  floor  of  the  palace  he  lay  down  beneath  the 
couch,  intending  to  slay  the  king,  as  soon  as  he  came. 
At  the  close  of  the  evening  meal,  the  king  sent  his 
retinue  away,  wishing  to  lie  down,  and  entering  the  royal 
chamber,  as  he  stood  on  the  threshold,  he  uttered  the 
fourth  stanza: 

Thy  cautious  creeping-  ways 

Like  one-eyed  g-oat  in  mustard  field  that  strays, 
And  who  thou  art  that  lurkest  here  below, 

This  too  I  know. 

Thought  the  prince,  "My  father  has  found  me  out. 
Now  he  will  put  me  to  death."  And  seized  with  fear  he 
came  out  from  beneath  the  couch,  and  throwing  down  his 
sword  at  the  king's  feet  and  saying,  "  Pardon  me,  my  lord," 
he  lay  grovelling  before  him.  The  king  said,  "  You  thought, 
no  one  knows  what  I  am  about."  And  after  rebuking 


him  he  ordered  him  to  be  bound  in  chains  and  put 
into  the  prison  house,  and  set  a  guard  over  him.  Then 
the  king  meditated  on  the  virtues  of  the  Bodhisatta.  And 
by  and  by  he  died.  When  they  had  celebrated  his  funeral 
rites,  they  took  the  young  prince  out  of  prison  and  set  him 
on  the  throne. 

A  close  variant  occurs  in  Jat.  373,  and  in  Buddhaghosha  vi.,  in  a  form  in  which 
the  royal  barber  is  bribed  to  kill  the  king.  Cf.  Clouston,  ii.  317  ff.,  A  king's  life 
saved  by  a  Maxim,  and  Gesta  Rom.  103  (95). 

The  mention  of  the  monkey  in  the  third  stanza  is  to  Jat.  58,  in  which  a  parent 
monkey  is  jealous  of  his  offspring,  much  as  Saturn,  who  devoured  his  children 
(Hesiod,  Theog.  473). 


This  story  was  told  by  the  Master  at  Jetavana,  con- 
cerning a  heron  that  lived  in  the  house  of  the  king  of 
Kosala.  She  carried  messages,  they  say,  for  the  king,  and 
had  two  young  ones.  The  king  sent  this  bird  with  a  letter 
to  some  other  king.  When  she  was  gone  away,  the  boys 
in  the  royal  family  squeezed  the  young  birds  to  death  hi 
their  hands.  The  mother  bird  came  back  and  missing 
her  young  ones,  asked  who  had  killed  her  offspring. 
They  said,  "So  and  so."  And  at  this  time  there  was 
a  fierce  and  savage  tiger  kept  in  the  palace,  fastened 
by  a  strong  chain.  Now  these  boys  came  to  see  the 
tiger  and  the  heron  went  with  them,  thinking,  "Even 
as  my  young  ones  were  killed  by  them,  just  so  will 
I  deal  with  these  boys,"  and  she  took  hold  of  them  and 
threw  them  down  at  the  foot  of  the  tiger.  The  tiger  with 
a  growl  crunched  them  up.  The  bird  said,  "Now  is  the 
wish  of  my  heart  fulfilled,"  and  flying  up  into  the  air 
made  straight  for  the  Himalayas.  On  hearing  what  had 
happened  they  started  a  discussion  in  the  Hall  of  Truth, 
saying,  "  Sirs,  a  heron,  it  is  said,  in  the  king's  palace  threw 



down  before  a  tiger  the  boys  who  killed  her  young  ones, 
and  when  she  had  thus  brought  about  their  death,  she 
made  off."  The  Master  came  and  inquired  what  it  was 
the  Brethren  were  discussing  and  said,  "Not  now  only, 
Brethren,  but  formerly  also  did  she  bring  about  the  death 
of  those  who  killed  her  young  ones."  And  herewith  he 
related  a  legend  of  the  past. 

Once  upon  a  time  the  Bodhisatta  at  Benares  ruled  his 
kingdom  with  justice  and  equity.  A  certain  heron  in  his 
house  carried  messages  for  him.  And  so  on  just  as  before. 
But  the  special  point  here  is  that  in  this  case  the  bird, 
having  let  the  tiger  kill  the  boys,  thought,  "  I  can  no 
longer  remain  here.  I  will  take  my  departure,  but 
though  I  am  going  away  I  will  not  leave  without  telling  the 
king,  but  as  soon  as  I  have  told  him  I  will  be  off."  And 
so  she  drew  nigh  and  saluted  the  king,  and  standing  a 
little  way  off  said,  "My  lord,  it  was  through  your  carelessness 
that  the  boys  killed  my  young  ones,  and  under  the  influence 
of  passion  I  in  revenge  caused  their  death.  Now  I  can  no 
longer  live  here."  And  uttering  the  first  stanza  she  said : 

Long-  I  held  this  house  as  mine, 

Honour  great  I  did  receive, 
It  is  due  to  act  of  thine 

I  am  now  compelled  to  leave. 

The  king  on  hearing  this  repeated  the  second  stanza : 

Should  one  to  retaliate, 

Wrong1  with  equal  wrong1  repay, 
Then  his  anger  should  abate; 

So,  good  heron,  prithee  stay. 

Hearing  this  the  bird  spoke  the  third  stanza : 

Wronged  can  with  wrong-doer  ne'er 

As  of  old  be  made  at  one : 
Nought,  O  king  can  keep  me  here, 

Lo!  from  henceforth  I  am  gone. 

THE   LION   AND   THE   BULL  245 

The  king,  on  hearing  this,  spoke  the  fourth  stanza : 

Should  they  wise,  not  foolish  be, 

With  the  wronged  wrong-doer  may 
Live  in  peace  and  harmony: 

So,  good  heron,  prithee,  stay. 

The  bird  said,  "  As  things  are,  I  cannot  stay,  my  lord," 
and  saluting  the  king  she  flew  up  into  the  air  and  made 
straight  for  the  Himalayas. 

K.  D.  (Syr.)  vn.,  (Arab.)  xir.  The  king  and  the  bird  Fanzah.  Mbh.  xn.  ch.  139, 
The  bird  Pujanl.  The  word  translated  '  heron '  is  kuntanl,  which  is  given  as  a 
synonym  of  konca  'heron'  in  the  Abhidhdnappadipikd  641 ;  but  it  is  probably  a 
corruption  of  Pujanl,  of  the  Mbh.,  a  change  which  is  possible  only  in  Kharosthi  script 
(Franke),  and  implies  a  N.W.  Indian  locality  for  the  jataka.  Hertel  finds  a  distant 
resemblance  in  P.  (T.)  i.  4,  (B.)  i.  6,  where  a  crow  takes  revenge  on  a  snake  that  eats 
its  young  ones  by  stealing  a  gold  band  and  hanging  it  over  the  snake's  dwelling. 
The  owners  come  for  it  and  kill  the  snake. 


Once  upon  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  as  his  son,  and  after 
acquiring  all  the  arts  at  Takkasila,  on  his  father's  death, 
he  ruled  his  kingdom  righteously. 

At  that  time  a  certain  neatherd,  who  was  tending  cattle 
in  their  sheds  in  the  forest,  came  home  and  inadvertently 
left  behind  him  a  cow  that  was  in  calf.  Between  the 
cow  and  a  lioness  sprang  up  a  firm  Mendship.  The  two 
animals  became  fast  friends  and  went  about  together. 
So  after  a  time  the  cow  brought  forth  a  calf  and  the 
lioness  a  cub.  These  two  young  creatures  also  by  force  of 
family  ties  became  fast  friends  and  wandered  about  to- 
gether. Then  a  certain  forester,  after  observing  their 
affection,  took  such  wares  as  are  produced  in  the  forest 
and  went  to  Benares  and  presented  them  to  the  king. 
And  when  the  king  asked  him,  "Friend,  have  you  seen 
any  unusual  marvel  in  the  forest  ? "  he  made  answer, 

246  THE   LION   AND   THE   BULL 

"  I  saw  nothing  else  that  was  wonderful,  my  lord,  but  I  did 
see  a  lion  and  a  bull  wandering  about  together,  very 
friendly  one  towards  another." 

"Should  a  third  animal  appear,"  said  the  king,  "there 
will  certainly  be  mischief.  Come  and  tell  me,  if  you  see 
the  pair  joined  by  a  third  animal." 

"  Certainly,  my  lord,"  he  answered. 

Now  when  the  forester  had  left  for  Benares,  a  jackal 
ministered  to  the  lion  and  the  bull.  When  he  returned 
to  the  forest  and  saw  this  he  said, "  I  will  tell  the  king  that 
a  third  animal  has  appeared,"  and  departed  for  the  city. 
Now  the  jackal  thought,  "There  is  no  meat  that  I  have 
not  eaten  except  the  flesh  of  lions  and  bulls.  By  setting 
these  two  at  variance,  I  will  get  their  flesh  to  eat."  And 
he  said,  "  This  is  the  way  he  speaks  of  you,"  and  thus 
dividing  them  one  from  another,  he  soon  brought  about  a 
quarrel  and  reduced  them  to  a  dying  condition. 

But  the  forester  came  and  told  the  king,  "  My  lord,  a 
third  animal  has  turned  up."  "  What  is  it  ? "  said  the  king. 
"A jackal,  my  lord."  Said  the  kin<»\  "He  will  cause  them 
to  quarrel,  and  will  bring  about  their  death.  We  shall  find 
them  dead  when  we  arrive."  And  so  saying,  he  mounted 
upon  his  chariot  and  travelling-  on  the  road  pointed  out 
by  the  forester,  he  arrived  just  as  the  two  animals  had  by 
their  quarrel  destroyed  one  another.  The  jackal  highly 
delighted  was  eating,  now  the  flesh  of  the  lion,  now  that  of 
the  bull.  The  king  when  he  saw  that  they  were  both  dead, 
stood  just  as  he  was  upon  his  chariot,  and  addressing  his 
charioteer  gave  utterance  to  these  verses : 

Nought  in  common  had  this  pair, 
Neither  wives  nor  food  did  share; 
Yet  behold  how  slanderous  word, 
Keen  as  any  two-edged  sword, 


Did  devise  with  cunning1  art 
Friends  of  old  to  keep  apart. 
Thus  did  bull  and  lion  fall 
Prey  to  meanest  beast  of  all: 

So  will  all  bed-fellows  be 

With  this  pair  in  misery, 

If  they  lend  a  willing-  ear 

To  the  slanderer's  whispered  sneer. 

But  they  thrive  exceeding  well, 
E'en  as  those  in  heaven  that  dwell, 
Who  to  slander  ne'er  attend— 
Slander  parting-  friend  from  friend. 

The  king-  spoke  these  verses,  and  bidding  them  gather 
together  the  mane,  skin,  claws,  and  teeth  of  the  lion, 
returned  straight  to  his  own  city. 

The  frame  story  of  P.  i.,  in  which  only  the  bull  is  killed,  Hitop.  n.,  Som.  LX. 

(ii.  27),  K.  D.  (Syr.)  i.,  (Arab.)  v.     Tib.  T.  xxxm.  first  version.  The  second  version 

corresponds  to  Jat.  361,  in  which  the  wiles  of  the  jackal  are  defeated,  as  also  in 
Julien  26. 


Once  upon  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  came  to  life  as  a  young  elephant, 
and  growing  up  a  fine  comely  beast,  he  became  the  leader 
of  the  herd,  with  a  following  of  eighty  thousand  elephants, 
and  dwelt  in  the  Himalayas.  At  that  time  a  quail  laid 
her  eggs  in  the  feeding-ground  of  the  elephants.  When 
the  eggs  were  ready  to  be  hatched,  the  young  birds  broke 
the  shells  and  came  out.  Before  their  wings  had  grown, 
and  when  they  were  still  unable  to  fly,  the  Great  Being 
with  his  following  of  eighty  thousand  elephants,  in  ranging 
about  for  food,  came  to  this  spot.  On  seeing  them  the 
quail  thought,  "This  royal  elephant  will  trample  on  my 
young  ones  and  kill  them.  Lo !  I  will  implore  his 
righteous  protection  for  the  defence  of  my  brood."  Then 


she  raised  her  two  wings  and  standing  before  him  repeated 

the  first  stanza : 

Elephant  of  sixty  years, 
Forest  lord  amongst  thy  peers, 
I  am  but  a  puny  bird, 
Thou  a  leader  of  the  herd; 
With  my  wings  I  homage  pay, 
Spare  my  little  ones,  I  pray. 

The  Great  Being  said,  "  O  quail,  be  not  troubled.  I  will 
protect  thy  offspring."  And  standing  over  the  young 
birds,  while  the  eighty  thousand  elephants  passed  by,  he 
thus  addressed  the  quail:  "Behind  us  comes  a  solitary 
rogue  elephant.  He  will  not  do  our  bidding.  When  he 
comes,  do  thou  entreat  him  too,  and  so  insure  the  safety 
of  thy  offspring."  And  with  these  words  he  made  off 
And  the  quail  went  forth  to  meet  the  other  elephant,  and 
with  both  wings  uplifted,  making  respectful  salutation,  she 
spoke  the  second  stanza : 

Roaming  over  hill  and  dale 

Cherishing  thy  lonely  way, 
Thee,  0  forest  king,  I  hail, 

And  with  wings  my  homage  pay. 
I  am  but  a  wretched  quail, 

Spare  my  tender  brood  to  slay. 

On  hearing  her  words,  the  elephant  spoke  the  third 

stanza : 

I  will  slay  thy  young  ones,  quail; 
What  can  thy  poor  help  avail  ? 
My  left  foot  can  crush  with  ease 
Many  thousand  birds  like  these. 

And  so  saying,  with  his  foot  he  crushed  the  young  birds 
to  atoms,  and  staling  over  them  washed  them  away  in  a 
flood  of  water,  and  went  off  loudly  trumpeting.  The  quail 
sat  down  on  a  bough  of  a  tree  and  said,  "  Then  be  off  with 
you  and  trumpet  away.  You  shall  very  soon  see  what 
I  will  do.  You  little  know  what  a  difference  there  is 

1'LATK    V 


lid  •'1")7,   tli  ri'i'  KiTin-.f,  />/>.    '24','.   i'4!>) 


between  strength  of  body  and  strength  of  mind.  Well ! 
I  will  teach  you  this  lesson."  And  thus  threatening  him 
she  repeated  the  fourth  stanza : 

Power  abused  is  not  all  gain, 
Power  is  often  folly's  bane. 
Beast  that  didst  my  young  ones  kill, 
I  will  work  thee  mischief  still. 

And  so  saying,  shortly  afterwards  she  did  a  good  turn 
to  a  crow,  and  when  the  crow,  who  was  highly  pleased, 
asked,  "  What  can  I  do  for  you  ? "  the  quail  said,  "  There  is 
nothing  else,  Sir,  to  be  done,  but  I  shall  expect  you  to 
strike  with  your  beak  and  to  peck  out  the  eyes  of  this 
rogue  elephant."  The  crow  readily  assented,  and  the  quail 
then  did  a  service  to  a  blue  fly,  and  when  the  fly  asked, 
"What  can  I  do  for  you?"  she  said,  "When  the  eyes  of 
this  rogue  elephant  have  been  put  out  by  the  crow,  then 
I  want  you  to  let  fall  a  nit  upon  them."  The  fly  agreed, 
and  then  the  quail  did  a  kindness  to  a  frog,  and  when  the 
frog  asked  what  it  was  to  do,  she  said,  "  When  this  rogue 
elephant  becomes  blind,  and  shall  be  searching  for  water 
to  drink,  then  take  your  stand  and  utter  a  croak  on  the 
top  of  a  mountain,  and  when  he  has  climbed  to  the  top, 
come  down  and  croak  again  at  the  bottom  of  the  pre- 
cipice. This  much  I  shall  look  for  at  your  hands."  After 
hearing  what  the  quail  said,  the  frog  readily  assented. 
So  one  day  the  crow  with  its  beak  pecked  out  both  the 
eyes  of  the  elephant,  and  the  fly  dropped  its  eggs  upon 
them,  and  the  elephant  being  eaten  up  with  maggots  was 
maddened  by  the  pain,  and  overcome  with  thirst  wandered 
about  seeking  for  water  to  drink.  At  this  moment  the 
frog  standing  on  the  top  of  a  mountain  uttered  a  croak. 
Thought  the  elephant,  "  There  must  be  water  there,"  and 
climbed  up  the  mountain.  Then  the  frog  descended,  and 


standing  at  the  bottom  croaked  again.  The  elephant 
thought,  "  There  will  be  water  there,"  and  moved  forward 
towards  the  precipice,  and  rolling  over  fell  to  the  bottom 
of  the  mountain  and  was  killed.  When  the  quail  knew 
that  the  elephant  was  dead,  she  said,  "  I  have  seen  the 
back  of  mine  enemy,"  and  in  a  high  state  of  delight 
strutted  over  his  body,  and  passed  away  to  fare  according 
to  her  deeds. 

P.  (B.)  I.  15,  where  the  friends  of  the  bird  are  a  woodpecker,  frog,  and  fly  which 
hums  pleasantly  in  the  elephant's  ear,  while  the  woodpecker  pecks  his  eyes  out.  In 
K.  D.  (Arab.)  i.  the  fly  does  not  occur. 


Once  upon  a  time  king  Tamba  reigned  in  Benares, 
and  his  queen-consort  named  Sussondi  was  a  woman  of 
surpassing  beauty.  At  that  time  the  Bodhisatta  came  to 
life  as  a  young  Garuda.  Now  the  Naga  island  was  then 
known  as  Seruma  island,  and  the  Bodhisatta  lived  on  this 
island  in  the  abode  of  the  Garudas.  And  he  went  to 
Benares,  disguised  as  a  youth,  and  played  at  dice  with 
king  Tamba.  Remarking  his  beauty  they  said  to  Sussondi, 
"Such  and  such  a  youth  plays  at  dice  with  our  king." 
She  longed  to  see  him,  and  one  day  she  adorned  herself 
and  repaired  to  the  dice-chamber.  There  taking  her 
stand  amongst  the  attendants,  she  fixed  her  gaze  on  the 
youth.  He  too  gazed  on  the  queen,  and  the  pair  fell  in 
love  with  one  another.  The  Garuda  king  by  an  act  of 
supernatural  power  stirred  up  a  storm  in  the  city.  The 
people,  through  fear  of  the  house  falling,  fled  out  of  the 
palace.  By  his  power  he  caused  it  to  be  dark,  and  carry- 
ing off  the  queen  with  him  in  the  air,  he  made  his  way  to 
his  own  abode  in  Naga  island.  But  no  one  knew  of  the 
coming  or  going  of  Sussondi.  The  Garuda  took  his 


pleasure  with  her,  and  still  came  to  play  at  dice  with  the 
king.  Now  the  king  had  a  minstrel  named  Sagga,  and 
not  knowing  where  the  queen  had  gone,  the  king  addressed 
the  minstrel  and  said,  "Go  now  and  explore  every  land 
and  sea,  and  discover  what  has  become  of  the  queen." 
And  so  saying  he  bade  him  begone. 

He  took  what  was  necessary  for  his  journey,  and 
beginning  the  search  from  the  city  gate,  at  last  came 
to  Bharukaccha.  At  that  time  certain  merchants  of 
Bharukaccha  were  setting  sail  for  the  Golden  Land.  He 
approached  them  and  said,  "I  am  a  minstrel.  If  you 
remit  my  passage  money,  I  will  act  as  your  minstrel. 
Take  me  with  you."  They  agreed  to  do  so,  and  putting 
him  on  board  weighed  anchor.  When  the  ship  was  fairly 
off,  they  called  him  and  bade  him  make  music  for  them. 
He  said,  "  I  would  make  music,  but  if  I  do,  the  fish  will  be 
so  excited  that  your  vessel  will  be  wrecked."  "  If  a  mere 
mortal,"  they  said,  "make  music,  there  will  be  no  excite- 
ment on  the  part  of  the  fish.  Play  to  us."  "  Then  do  not 
be  angry  with  me,"  he  said,  and  tuning  his  lute  and  keeping 
perfect  harmony  between  the  words  of  his  song  and  the 
accompaniment  of  the  lute  string,  he  made  music  for 
them.  The  fish  were  maddened  at  the  sound  and  splashed 
about.  And  a  certain  sea  monster  leaping  up  fell  upon 
the  ship  and  broke  it  in  two.  Sagga  lying  on  a  plank  was 
carried  along  by  the  wind  till  he  reached  a  banyan  tree  in 
the  Naga  island,  where  the  Garuda  king  lived.  Now  queen 
Sussondi,  whenever  the  Garuda  king  went  to  play  at  dice, 
came  down  from  her  place  of  abode,  and  as  she  was 
wandering  on  the  edge  of  the  shore,  she  saw  and  recognised 
the  minstrel  Sagga,  and  asked  him  how  he  got  there.  He 
told  her  the  whole  story.  And  she  comforted  him  and 
said,  "  Do  not  be  afraid,"  and  embracing  him  in  her  arms, 


she  carried  him  to  her  abode  and  laid  him  on  a  couch. 
And  when  he  was  greatly  revived,  she  fed  him  with  heavenly 
food,  bathed  him  in  heavenly  scented-water,  arrayed  him 
in  heavenly  raiment,  and  adorned  him  with  flowers  of 
heavenly  perfume,  and  made  him  recline  upon  a  heavenly 
couch.  Thus  did  she  watch  over  him,  and  whenever  the 
Garuda  king  returned,  she  hid  her  lover,  and  so  soon  as 
the  king  was  gone,  under  the  influence  of  passion  she  took 
her  pleasure  with  him.  At  the  end  of  a  month  and  a  half 
from  that  time  some  merchants,  who  dwelt  at  Benares, 
landed  at  the  foot  of  the  banyan  tree  in  this  island,  to  get 
fire-wood  and  water.  The  minstrel  went  on  board  ship 
with  them,  and  on  reaching  Benares,  as  soon  as  he  saw 
the  king,  while  he  was  playing  at  dice,  Sagga  took  his  lute, 
and  making  music  recited  the  first  stanza: 

I  scent  the  fragrance  of  the  tiraira  grove, 
I  hear  the  moaning1  of  the  weary  sea: 

Tamba,  I  am  tormented  with  iny  love, 
For  fair  Sussondi  dwells  afar  from  me. 

On  hearing  this  the  Garuda  king  uttered  the  second 

stanza : 

How  didst  thou  cross  the  stormy  main, 
And  Seruma  in  safety  gain? 
How  didst  thou,  Sagga,  tell  me,  pray, 
To  fair  Sussondi  win  thy  way? 

Then  Sagga  repeated  three  stanzas : 

With  trading-folk  from  Bharukaccha  land 

My  ship  was  wrecked  by  monsters  of  the  sea; 
I  on  a  plank  did  safely  gain  the  strand, 
When  an  anointed  queen  with  gentle  hand 
Upbore  me  tenderly  upon  her  knee, 
As  though  to  her  a  true  son  I  might  be. 
She  food  and  raiment  brought,  and  as  I  lay 
With  love-lorn  eyes  hung  o'er  my  couch  all  day. 
Know,  Tamba,  well;  this  word  is  sooth  I  say. 


The  Garuda,  while  the  minstrel  thus  spake,  was  filled 
with  regrets  and  said :  "  Though  I  dwelt  in  the  abode  of 
the  Garudas,  I  failed  to  guard  her  safely.  What  is  this 
wicked  woman  to  me?"  So  he  brought  her  back  and 
presented  her  to  the  king  and  departed.  And  thenceforth 
he  came  not  there  any  more. 

Variant  of  Jat.  327. 


Once  upon  a  time  in  the  reign  of  Brahmadatta,  king 
of  Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  re-born  as  Sakka.  At  that 
time  a  certain  young  brahmin  of  Benares  acquired  all  the 
liberal  arts  at  Takkasila,  and  having  attained  to  proficiency 
in  archery,  he  was  known  as  the  clever  Little  Archer. 
Then  his  master  thought,  "This  youth  has  acquired  skill 
equal  to  my  own,"  and  he  gave  him  his  daughter  to  wife. 
He  took  her  and  wishing  to  return  to  Benares  he  set  out 
on  the  road.  Half-way  on  his  journey,  an  elephant  laid 
waste  a  certain  place,  and  no  man  dared  to  ascend  to  that 
spot.  The  clever  Little  Archer,  though  the  people  tried 
to  stop  him,  took  his  wife  and  climbed  up  to  the  entrance 
of  the  forest.  Then  when  he  was  in  the  midst  of  the 
wood,  the  elephant  rose  up  to  attack  him.  The  Archer 
wounded  him  in  the  forehead  with  an  arrow,  which  piercing 
him  through  and  through  came  out  at  the  back  of  his 
head,  and  the  elephant  fell  down  dead  on  the  spot.  The 
clever  Archer  after  making  this  place  secure,  went  on 
further  to  another  wood.  And  there  fifty  robbers  were 


infesting  the  road.  Up  to  this  spot  too,  though  men  tried 
to  stop  him,  he  climbed  till  he  found  the  regular  place, 
where  the  robbers  killed  the  deer  and  roasted  and  ate 


the  venison,  close  to  the  road.  The  robbers,  seeing  him 
approach  with  his  gaily  attired  wife,  made  a  great  effort 
to  capture  him.  The  robber  chief,  being  skilled  in  reading 
a  man's  character,  just  gave  one  look  at  him,  and  recognising 
him  as  a  distinguished  hero,  did  not  suffer  them  to  rise  up 
against  him,  though  he  was  single-handed.  The  clever 
Archer  sent  his  wife  to  these  robbers,  saying,  "Go  and  bid 
them  give  us  a  spit  of  meat,  and  bring  it  to  me."  So  she 
went  and  said,  "Give  me  a  spit  of  meat."  The  robber 
chief  said,  "  He  is  a  noble  fellow,"  and  bade  them  give  it 
her.  The  robbers  said,  "  What !  is  he  to  eat  our  roast 
meat  ? "  And  they  gave  her  a  piece  of  raw  meat.  The 
Archer,  having  a  good  opinion  of  himself,  was  wroth  with 
the  robbers  for  offering  him  raw  meat.  The  robbers  said, 
"What!  is  he  the  only  man,  and  are  we  merely  women?'1 
And  thus  threatening  him,  they  rose  up  against  him.  The 
Archer  wounded  and  struck  to  the  ground  fifty  robbers 
save  one  with  the  same  number  of  arrows.  He  had  no 
arrow  left  to  wound  the  robber  chief.  There  had  been 
full  fifty  arrows  in  his  quiver.  With  one  of  them  he  had 
wounded  the  elephant,  and  with  the  rest  the  fifty  robbers 
save  one.  So  he  knocked  down  the  robber  chief,  and 
sitting  on  his  chest  bade  his  wife  bring  him  his  sword  in 
her  hand  to  cut  off  his  head.  At  that  very  moment  she 
conceived  a  passion  for  the  robber  chief  and  placed  the 
hilt  of  the  swrord  in  his  hand  and  the  sheath  in  that  of 
her  husband.  The  robber  grasping  the  hilt  drew  out  the 
sword,  and  cut  off  the  head  of  the  Archer.  After  slaying 
her  husband  he  took  the  woman  with  him,  and  as  they 
journeyed  together  he  enquired  of  her  origin.  "  I  am  the 
daughter,"  she  said,  "of  a  world-famed  professor  at 

"  How  did  he  get  you  for  his  wife  ? "  he  said. 


"My  father,"  she  said,  "was  so  pleased  at  his  having 
acquired  from  him  an  art  equal  to  his  own,  that  he  gave 
me  to  him  to  wrife.  And  because  I  fell  in  love  with  you, 
I  let  you  kill  my  lawful  husband." 

Thought  the  robber  chief,  "  This  woman  now  has  killed 
her  lawful  husband.  As  soon  as  she  sees  some  other  man, 
she  will  treat  me  too  after  the  same  sort.  I  must  get  rid 
of  her." 

And  as  he  went  on  his  way,  he  saw  their  path  cut  off 
by  what  Avas  usually  a  poor  little  shallow  stream,  but 
which  was  now  flooded,  and  he  said,  "My  dear,  there  is 
a  savage  crocodile  in  this  river.  What  are  we  to  do?" 

"My  lord,"  she  said,  "take  all  the  ornaments  I  wear, 
and  make  them  into  a  bundle  in  your  upper  robe,  and 
carry  them  to  the  further  side  of  the  river,  and  then  come 
back  and  take  me  across." 

"Very  well,"  he  said,  and  took  all  her  adornments, 
and  going  down  to  the  stream,  like  one  in  great  haste, 
he  gained  the  other  bank,  and  left  her  and  fled. 

On  seeing  this  she  cried,  "  My  lord,  you  go  as  if  you 
were  leaving  me.  Why  do  you  do  this  ?  Come  back  and 
take  me  with  you."  And  addressing  him  she  uttered  the 
first  stanza: 

Since  thou  hast  gained  the  other  side, 
With  all  iny  goods  in  bundle  tied, 
Return  as  quickly  as  may  be 
And  carry  me  across  with  thee. 

The  robber,  on  hearing  her,  as  he  stood  on  the 
further  bank,  repeated  the  second  stanza: 

Thy  fancy,  lady,  ever  roves 
From  well-tried  faith  to  lighter  loves, 
Me  too  thou  wouldst  ere  long  betray, 
Should  I  not  hence  flee  far  away. 


But  when  the  robber  said,  "I  will  go  further  hence: 
you  stop  where  you  are,"  she  screamed  aloud,  and  he  fled 
with  all  her  adornments.  Such  was  the  fate  that  overtook 
the  poor  fool  through  excess  of  passion.  And  being  quite 
helpless  she  drew  nigh  to  a  clump  of  cassia  plants  and  sat 
there  weeping.  At  that  moment  Sakka,  looking  down 
upon  the  world,  saw  her  smitten  with  desire  and  weeping 
for  the  loss  of  both  husband  and  lover.  And  thinking  he 
would  go  and  rebuke  her  and  put  her  to  shame,  he  took 
with  him  Matali  and  Pancasikha1,  and  went  and  stood  on 
the  bank  of  the  river  and  said,  "  Matali,  do  you  become 
a  fish,  Pancasikha,  you  change  into  a  bird,  and  I  will 
become  a  jackal.  And  taking  a  piece  of  meat  in  my 
mouth,  I  will  go  and  place  myself  in  front  of  this  woman, 
and  when  you  see  me  there,  you,  Matali,  are  to  leap  up 
out  of  the  water,  and  fall  before  me,  and  when  I  shall  drop 
the  piece  of  meat  I  have  taken  in  my  mouth,  and  shall 
spring  up  to  seize  the  fish,  at  that  moment,  you,  Pancasikha, 
are  to  pounce  upon  the  piece  of  meat,  and  to  fly  up  into 
the  air,  and  you,  Matali,  are  to  fall  into  the  water." 

Thus  did  Sakka  instruct  them.  And  they  said,  "  Good, 
my  lord."  Matali  was  changed  into  a  fish,  Pancasikha 
into  a  bird,  and  Sakka  became  a  jackal.  And  taking  a 
piece  of  meat  in  his  mouth,  he  went  and  placed  himself  in 
front  of  the  woman.  The  fish  leaping  up  out  of  the  water 
fell  before  the  jackal.  The  jackal  dropping  the  piece  of 
meat  he  held  in  his  mouth,  sprang  up  to  catch  the  fish.  The 
fish  jumped  up  and  fell  into  the  water,  and  the  bird  seized 
the  piece  of  meat  and  flew  up  into  the  air.  The  jackal 
thus  lost  both  fish  and  meat  and  sat  sulkily  looking 
towards  the  clump  of  cassia.  The  woman  seeing  this 
said,  "Through  being  too  covetous,  he  got  neither  flesh 

1  His  charioteer  and  a  gandharva. 


nor  fish,"  and,  as  if  she  saw  the  point  of  the  trick,  she 
laughed  heartily. 

The  jackal,  on  hearing  this,  uttered  the  third  stanza: 

Who  makes  the  cassia  thicket  ring 
With  laughter,  though  none  dance  or  sing, 
Or  clap  their  hands,  good  time  to  keep? 
Fair  one,  laugh  not,  when  thou  shouldst  weep. 

On  hearing  this,  she  repeated  the  fourth  stanza : 

0  silly  jackal,  thou  must  wish 
Thou  hadst  not  lost  both  flesh  and  fish. 
Poor  fool!  well  niayst  thou  grieve  to  see 
What  comes  of  thy  stupidity. 

Then  the  jackal  repeated  the  fifth  stanza: 

Another's  faults  are  plainly  seen, 
'Tis  hard  to  see  one's  own,  I  ween. 
Methinks  thou  too  must  count  the  cost, 
When  spouse  and  lover  both  are  lost. 

On  hearing  his  words  she  spoke  this  stanza : 

King  jackal,  'tis  just  as  you  say, 
So  I  will  hie  me  far  away, 
And  seek  another  wedded  love 
And  strive  a  faithful  wife  to  prove. 

Then  Sakka,  king  of  heaven,  hearing  the  words  of  this 
vicious  and  unchaste  woman,  repeated  the  final  stanza : 

He  that  would  steal  a  pot  of  clay 
Would  steal  a  brass  one  any  day; 
And  thou  who  wast  thy  husband's  bane 
Wilt  be  as  bad  or  worse  again. 

Thus  did  Sakka  put  her  to  shame  and  brought  her 
to  repent,  and  then  returned  to  his  own  abode. 

Variant  of  Jat.  318.  P.  (B.)  iv.  8.  It  also  forms  an  episode  of  Tib.  T.  xn. 
p.  232.  For  the  jackal  and  fish  cf.  Aesop,  The  Dog  and  his  Shadow,  Babr.  79, 
Halm  233,  Phaedr.  i.  4,  K.  D.  (Arab.)  iv.  See  Hausrath,  Jacobs  58. 

F.  &  T.  17 


Once  upon  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  king  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  as  a  cock  and  lived 
in  the  forest  with  a  retinue  of  many  hundred  cocks.  Not 


far  away  lived  a  she-cat :  and  she  deceived  by  devices  the 
other  cocks  except  the  Bodhisatta  and  ate  them :  but 
the  Bodhisatta  did  not  fall  into  her  power.  She  thought, 
"This  cock  is  very  crafty,  but  he  knows  not  that  I  am 
crafty  and  skilful  in  device :  it  is  good  that  I  cajole  him, 
saying,  '  I  will  be  your  wife,'  and  so  eat  him  when  he  comes 
into  my  power."  She  went  to  the  root  of  the  tree  where 
he  perched,  and  praying  him  in  a  speech  preceded  by 
praise  of  his  beauty,  she  spoke  the  first  stanza : 

Bird  with  wing's  that  flash  so  gaily,  crest  that  droops  so  gracefully, 
I  will  be  your  wife  for  nothing1,  leave  the  bough  and  come  to  me. 

The  Bodhisatta  hearing  her  thought,  "  She  has  eaten 
all  my  relatives ;  now  she  wishes  to  cajole  me  and  eat  me : 
I  will  get  rid  of  her."  So  he  spoke  the  second  stanza : 

Lady  fair  and  winning,  you  have  four  feet,  I  have  only  two: 
Beasts  and  birds  should  never  marry:    for  some  other  husband  sue. 

Then  she  thought,  "  He  is  exceedingly  crafty ;  by  some 
device  or  other  I  will  deceive  him  and  eat  him  " ;  so  she 
spoke  the  third  stanza: 

I  will  bring  thee  youth  and  beauty,  pleasant  speech  and  courtesy : 
Honoured  wife  or  simple  slave-girl,  at  thy  pleasure  deal  with  me. 

Then  the  Bodhisatta  thought,  "It  is  best  to  revile  her 
and  drive  her  away,"  so  he  spoke  the  fourth  stanza: 

Thou  hast  drunk  my  kindred's  blood,  and  robbed  and  slain  them  cruelly : 
"  Honoured  wife  !  "  there  is  no  honour  in  thy  heart  when  wooing  me. 

I'LATK    17 


(,1,-itiih-n  ::!',:!.  />.  258) 


She  was  driven  away  and  did  not  endure  to  look  at 
him  again. 

Jat.  448  is  a  similar  fable  with  the  same  title,  in  which  a  falcon  fails  to  make 
friends  with  a  cock.  Cf.  Aesop  (Halm  231),  in  which  a  fox  tries  to  entice  a  cock 
down  from  a  tree.  The  fox  is  killed  by  a  dog,  the  cock's  companion.  Jacobs  (75) 
supposes  that  there  was  once  a  third  character  in  the  jataka,  indicated  in  the 
Bharhut  Stupa,  pi.  XLVII.  5,  by  an  object  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  possibly  the  bells 
of  a  dancing  girl. 


Once  upon  a  time  when  a  king  named  Senaka  was 
reigning  in  Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  Sakka.  The  king 
Senaka  was  friendly  with  a  certain  naga-king.  This  naga- 
king,  they  say,  left  the  naga-world  and  ranged  the  earth 
seeking  food.  The  village  boys  seeing  him  said,  "This 
is  a  snake,"  and  struck  him  with  clods  and  other  things. 
The  king,  going  to  amuse  himself  in  his  garden,  saw  them, 
and  being  told  they  were  beating  a  snake,  said,  "  Don't  let 
them  beat  him,  drive  them  away  " ;  and  this  was  done.  So 
the  naga-king  got  his  life,  and  when  he  went  back  to  the 
naga-world,  he  took  many  jewels,  and  coming  at  midnight 
to  the  king's  bed-chamber  he  gave  them  to  him,  saying, 
"  I  got  my  life  through  you  " :  so  he  made  friendship  with 
the  king  and  came  again  and  again  to  see  him.  He  ap- 
pointed one  of  his  naga  girls,  insatiate  in  pleasures,  to  be 
near  the  king  and  protect  him :  and  he  gave  the  king  a 
charm,  saying,  "If  ever  you  do  not  see  her,  repeat  this 
charm."  One  day  the  king  went  to  the  garden  with  the 
naga  girl  and  was  amusing  himself  in  the  lotus-tank.  The 
naga  girl  seeing  a  water-snake  quitted  her  human  shape 
and  made  love  with  him.  The  king  not  seeing  the  girl 
said,  "  Where  is  she  gone  ? "  and  repeated  the  spell :  then 



he  saw  her  in  her  misconduct  and  struck  her  with  a  piece 
of  bamboo.  She  went  in  anger  to  the  naga-world,  and 
when  she  was  asked,  "Why  are  you  come?"  she  said, 
"  Your  friend  struck  me  on  the  back  because  I  did  not  do 
his  bidding,"  shewing  the  mark  of  the  blow.  The  naga- 
king,  not  knowing  the  truth,  called  four  naga  youths  and 
sent  them  with  orders  to  enter  Senaka's  bed-chamber  and 
destroy  him  like  chaff  by  the  breath  of  their  nostrils. 
Thev  entered  the  chamber  at  the  roval  bed-time.  As 

f  V 

they  came  in,  the  king  was  saying  to  the  queen:  "Lady, 
do  you  know  where  the  naga  girl  has  gone  ? "  "  King,  I  do 
not."  "To-day  when  we  were  bathing  in  the  tank,  she 
quitted  her  shape  and  misconducted  herself  with  a  water- 
snake  :  I  said,  '  Don't  do  that,'  and  struck  her  with  a  piece 
of  bamboo  to  give  her  a  lesson :  and  now  I  fear  she  may 
have  gone  to  the  naga-world  and  told  some  lie  to  my  friend, 
destroying  his  good-will  to  me."  The  young  nagas  hearing 
this  turned  back  at  once  to  the  naga-world  and  told  their 
king.  He  being  moved  went  instantly  to  the  king's 
chamber,  told  him  all  and  was  forgiven:  then  he  said, 
"  In  this  way  I  make  amends,"  and  gave  the  king  a  charm 
giving  knowledge  of  all  sounds :  "  This,  O  king,  is  a  price- 
less spell :  if  you  give  anyone  this  spell  you  will  at  once 
enter  the  fire  and  die."  The  king  said,  "It  is  well,"  and 
accepted  it.  From  that  time  he  understood  the  voice 
even  of  ants.  One  day  he  was  sitting  on  the  dais  eating 
solid  food  with  honey  and  molasses :  and  a  drop  of  honey, 
a  drop  of  molasses,  and  a  morsel  of  cake  fell  on  the  ground. 
An  ant  seeing  this  comes  crying,  "  The  king's  honey -jar  is 
broken  on  the  dais,  his  molasses-cart  and  cake-cart  are 
upset ;  come  and  eat  honey  and  molasses  and  cake."  The 
king  hearing  the  cry  laughed.  The  queen  being  near  him 
thought,  "  What  has  the  king  seen  that  he  laughs  ? "  When 


the  king  had  eaten  his  solid  food  and  bathed  and  sat  down 
cross-legged,  a  fly  said  to  his  wife,  "  Come,  lady,  let  us  enjoy 
love."  She  said,  "Excuse  me  for  a  little,  husband:  they 
will  soon  be  bringing  perfumes  to  the  king ;  as  he  perfumes 
himself  some  powder  will  fall  at  his  feet :  I  will  stay  there 
and  become  fragrant,  then  we  will  enjoy  ourselves  lying 
on  the  king's  back/'  The  king  hearing  the  voice  laughed 
again.  The  queen  thought  again,  "  What  has  he  seen  that 
he  laughs  ? "  Again  when  the  king  was  eating  his  supper, 
a  lump  of  rice  fell  on  the  ground.  The  ants  cried,  "A 
wagon  of  rice  has  broken  in  the  king's  palace,  and  there 
is  none  to  eat  it."  The  king  hearing  this  laughed  again. 
The  queen  took  a  golden  spoon  and  helping  him  reflected, 
"  Is  it  at  the  sight  of  me  that  the  king  laughs  ? "  She  went 
to  the  bed-chamber  with  the  king  and  at  bed-time  she 
asked,  "Why  did  you  laugh,  O  king?"  He  said,  "What 
have  you  to  do  with  why  I  laugh  ? "  but  being  asked  again 
and  again  he  told  her.  Then  she  said,  "Give  me  your 
spell  of  knowledge."  He  said,  " It  cannot  be  given":  but 
though  repulsed  she  pressed  him  again. 

The  king  said,  "  If  I  give  you  this  spell,  I  shall  die." 
"Even  though  you  die,  give  it  me."  The  king,  being  in 
the  power  of  womankind,  saying,  "Very  well,"  consented 
and  went  to  the  park  in  a  chariot,  saying,  "  I  shall  enter 
the  fire  after  giving  away  this  spell."  At  that  moment, 
Sakka,  king  of  gods,  looked  down  on  the  earth  and  seeing 
this  case  said,  "This  foolish  king,  knowing  that  he  will 
enter  the  fire  through  womankind,  is  on  his  way ;  I  will 
give  him  his  life  " :  so  he  took  Suja,  daughter  of  the  Asuras, 
and  went  to  Benares.  He  became  a  he-goat  and  made 
her  a  she-goat,  and  resolving  that  the  people  should  not 
see  them,  he  stood  before  the  king's  chariot.  The  king 
and  the  Sindh  horses  yoked  in  the  chariot  saw  him,  but 


none  else  saw  him.  For  the  sake  of  starting  talk  he  was 
as  if  making  love  with  the  she-goat.  One  of  the  Sindh 
horses  yoked  in  the  chariot  seeing  him  said,  "  Friend  goat, 
we  have  heard  before,  but  not  seen,  that  goats  are  stupid 
and  shameless :  but  you  are  doing,  with  all  of  us  looking 
on,  this  thing  that  should  be  done  in  secret  and  in  a 
private  place,  and  are  not  ashamed :  what  we  have  heard 
•before  agrees  with  this  that  we  see  " :  and  so  he  spoke  the 
first  stanza : 

"  Goats  are  stupid,"  say  the  sages,  aud  the  words  are  surely  true : 
This  one  knows  not  he's  parading  what  in  secret  he  should  do. 

The  goat  hearing  him  spoke  two  stanzas : 

Truly  you're  a  stupid  fool,  you  donkey !   let  me  make  it  plain, 
"With  a  bit  your  mouth  is  wrenched,  your  head  is  twisted  with  the  rein. 

When  you're  loosed,  you  don't  escape,  sir,  that's  a  stupid  habit  too: 
And  that  Senaka  you  carry,  he's  more  stupid  still  than  you. 

The  king  understood  the  talk  of  both  animals,  and 
hearing  it  he  quickly  sent  away  the  chariot.  The  horse 
hearing  the  goat's  talk  spoke  the  fourth  stanza: 

Well,  Sir  king  of  goats,  you  fully  know  my  great  stupidity: 
But  how  Seuaka  is  stupid,  prithee  do  explain  to  me. 

The  goat  explaining  this  spoke  the  fifth  stanza : 

He  who  his  own  special  treasure  on  his  wjfe  will  throw  away, 
Cannot  keep  her  faithful  ever  and  his  life  he  must  betray. 

The  king  hearing  his  Avords  said,  "King  of  goats,  yon 
will  surely  act  for  my  advantage:  tell  me  now  what  is  right 
for  me  to  do."  Then  the  goat  said,  "  King,  to  all  animals 
no  one  is  dearer  than  self;  it  is  not  good  to  destroy  oneself 
and  abandon  the  honour  one  has  gained  for  the  sake  of 
anything  that  is  dear":  so  he  spoke  the  sixth  stanza: 

A  king,  like  thee,  may  have  conceived  desire 
And  yet  renounced  it  if  his  life's  the  cost: 

Life  is  the  chief  thing:    what  can  man  seek  higher? 
If  life's  secured,  desires  need  ne'er  be  crossed. 

THE   THEFT   OF   A   SMELL  263 

So  the  Bodhisatta  exhorted  the  king.  The  king, 
delighted,  asked,  "King  of  goats,  whence  come  you?" 
"  I  am  Sakka,  O  king,  come  to  save  you  from  death  out 
of  pity  for  you."  "  King  of  gods,  I  promised  to  give  her 
the  charm:  what  am  I  to  do  now?"  "There  is  no  need 
for  the  ruin  of  both  of  you :  you  say,  '  It  is  the  way  of  the 
craft,'  and  have  her  beaten  with  some  blows :  by  this  means 
she  will  not  get  it."  The  king  said,  "  Very  well,"  and  agreed. 
The  Bodhisatta  after  exhortation  to  the  king  went  to  his 
own  place.  The  king  went  to  the  garden,  had  the  queen 
summoned  and  then  said,  "Lady,  will  you  have  the  charm  ? " 
"  Yes,  lord."  "  Then  go  through  the  usual  custom."  "  What 
custom  ? "  "A  hundred  stripes  on  the  back,  but  you  must 
not  make  a  sound."  She  consented  through  greed  for  the 
charm.  The  king  made  his  slaves  take  whips  and  beat  her 
on  both  sides.  She  endured  two  or  three  stripes  and  then 
cried,  "I  don't  want  the  charm."  The  king  said,  "You 
would  have  killed  me  to  get  the  charm,"  and  so  flogging 
the  skin  off  her  back  he  sent  her  away.  After  that  she 
could  not  bear  to  talk  of  it  again. 

For  variants  see   Benfey  in  Orient,  u.  Occ.  ii.  133  ff.,  Ein  Mdrchen  von  der 
Thiersprache,  Kuhn   p.  81,  and  Frazer  in  Archaeol.  Rev.  i.  168ff. 


Once  upon  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  in  a  brahmin  family  of 
a  village  in  Kasi:  when  he  grew  up  he  learned  the  arts 
at  Takkasila,  and  afterwards  became  an  ascetic  and  lived 
near  a  lotus-pool.  One  day  he  went  down  into  the  pool 
and  stood  smelling  a  lotus  in  full  flower.  A  goddess  who 

264  THE    THEFT   OF   A   SMELL 

was  in  a  hollow  in  a  trunk  of  a  tree  alarming  him  spoke 
the  first  stanza: 

You  were  never  given  that  flower  you  smell,  though  its  only  a  single 

bloom ; 
'Tis  a  species  of  larceny,  reverend  sir,  you  are  stealing  its  perfume. 

Then  the  Bodhisatta  spoke  the  second  stanza : 

I  neither  take  nor  break  the  flower:  from  afar  I  smell  the  bloom. 
I  cannot  tell  on  what  pretence  you  say  I  steal  perfume. 

At  the  same  moment  a  man  was  digging  in  the  pool 
for  lotus-fibres  and  breaking  the  lotus-plants.  The 
Bodhisatta  seeing  him  said,  "You  call  a  man  thief  if  he 
smells  the  flower  from  afar :  why  do  you  not  speak  to  that 
other  man?"  So  in  talk  with  her  he  spoke  the  third 
stanza : 

A  man  who  digs  the  lotus-roots  and  breaks  the  stalks  I  see: 
Why  don't  you  call  the  conduct  of  that  man  disorderly? 

The  goddess,  explaining  why  she  did  not  speak  to  him, 
spoke  the  fourth  and  fifth  stanzas : 

Disgusting  like  a  nurse's  dress  are  men  disorderly: 

I  have  no  speech  with  men  like  him,  but  I  deign  to  speak  to  thee. 

When  a  man  is  free  from  evil  stains  and  seeks  for  purity, 

A  sin  like  a  hair-tip  shews  on  him  like  a  dark  cloud  in  the  sky. 

So  alarmed  by  her  the  Bodhisatta  in  emotion  spoke 
the  sixth  stanza: 

Surely,  fairy,  you  know  me  well,  to  pity  me  you  deign : 
If  you  see  me  do  the  like  offence,  pray  speak  to  me  again. 

Then  the  goddess  spoke  to  him  the  seventh  stanza : 

I  am  not  here  to  serve  you,  no  hireling  folk  are  we: 
Find,  Brother,  for  yourself  the  path  to  reach  felicity. 

So  exhorting  him  she  entered  her  own  abode.  The 
Bodhisatta  entered  on  high  meditation  and  was  born  in 
the  Brahma-world. 


The  jataka  is  an  example  of  the  rigid  application  of  the  second  Commandment 
of  the  Buddhists,  not  to  take  what  is  not  given,  but  may  be  a  modification  of 
a  less  moral  story.  The  closest  parallel  is  in  Rabelais,  in.  ch.  37,  in  which  a  porter 
eats  his  bread  outside  a  cook-shop  to  the  smell  of  the  roast  meat,  and  the  cook 
demands  payment.  The  dispute  is  decided  by  Seigny  Joan,  the  fool,  who  makes  the 
porter  ring  a  coin  several  times  on  the  counter,  and  then  declares  that  the  cook  is 
paid  with  the  sound  of  the  money.  Liebrecht  (Zur  Volkskunde,  503)  gives  a  very 
similar  Japanese  variant.  In  Som.  LXIII.  (ii.  87)  a  rich  man  promises  to  pay  a 
musician  for  his  singing,  but  when  the  time  for  payment  comes,  he  says,  "  You  gave 
a  short-lived  pleasure  to  my  ears  by  playing  on  the  lyre,  and  I  gave  a  short-lived 
pleasure  to  your  ears  by  promising  you  money"  (  =  Julien  25,  La  Promesse  vaine  et 
le  vain  Son). 


Once  upon  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  a  lion  and  living  with  a 
lioness  had  two  children,  a  son  and  a  daughter.  The 
son's  name  was  Manoja.  When  he  grew  up  he  took  a 
young  lioness  to  wife :  and  so  they  became  five.  Manoja 
killed  wild  buffaloes  and  other  animals,  and  so  got  flesh 
to  feed  his  parents,  sister  and  wife.  One  day  in  his  hunt- 
ing ground  he  saw  a  jackal  called  Giriya,  unable  to  run 
away  and  lying  on  his  belly.  "  How  now,  friend  ? "  he  said. 
"  I  wish  to  wait  on  you,  my  lord."  "  Well,  do  so."  So  he 
took  the  jackal  to  his  den.  The  Bodhisatta  seeing  him 
said,  "Dear  Manoja,  jackals  are  wicked  and  sinners,  and 
give  wrong  advice ;  don't  bring  this  one  near  you " :  but 
could  not  hinder  him.  Then  one  day  the  jackal  wished 
to  eat  horseflesh,  and  said  to  Manoja,  "Sir,  except  horse- 
flesh there  is  nothing  we  have  not  eaten;  let  us  take  a 
horse."  "But  where  are  there  horses,  friend?"  "At 
Benares  by  the  river  bank."  He  took  this  advice  and 
went  with  him  there  when  the  horses  bathe  in  the  river; 
he  took  one  horse,  and  throwing  it  on  his  back  he  came 
with  speed  to  the  mouth  of  his  den.  His  father  eating 


the  horseflesh  said,  "Dear,  horses  are  kings'  property, 
kings  have  many  stratagems,  they  have  skilful  archers  to 
shoot;  lions  who  eat  horseflesh  don't  live  long,  hence- 
forward don't  take  horses."  The  lion  not  following  his 
father's  advice  went  on  taking  them.  The  king,  hearing 
that  a  lion  was  taking  the  horses,  had  a  bathing-tank 
for  horses  made  inside  the  town:  but  the  lion  still  came 
and  took  them.  The  king  had  a  stable  made,  and  had 
fodder  and  water  given  them  inside  it.  The  lion  came 
over  the  wall  and  took  the  horses  even  from  the  stable. 
The  king  had  an  archer  called  who  shot  like  lightning, 
and  asked  if  he  could  shoot  a  lion.  He  said  he  could, 
and  making  a  tower  near  the  Avail  where  the  lion  came 
he  waited  there.  The  lion  came  and,  posting  the  jackal 
in  a  cemetery  outside,  sprang  into  the  town  to  take  the 
horses.  The  archer  thinking  "His  speed  is  very  great 
when  he  comes,"  did  not  shoot  him,  but  when  he  was  going 
away  after  taking  a  hdrse,  hampered  by  the  heavy  weight, 
he  hit  him  with  a  sharp  arrow  in  the  hind  quarters.  The 
arrow  came  out  at  his  front  quarters  and  flew  in  the  air. 
The  lion  yelled  "I  am  shot."  The  archer  after  shooting 
him  twanged  his  bow  like  thunder.  The  jackal  hearing 
the  noise  of  lion  and  bow  said  to  himself,  "My  comrade 
is  shot  and  must  be  killed,  there  is  no  friendship  with  the 
dead,  I  will  now  go  to  my  old  home  in  the  wood,"  and  so 
he  spoke  to  himself  in  two  stanzas: 

The  bow  is  bent,  the  bowstring  sounds  amain ; 
Manoja,  king  of  beasts,  my  friend,  is  slain. 

Alas,  I  seek  the  woods  as  best  I  may: 

Such  friends  are  naught;  others  must  be  my  stay. 

The  lion  with  a  rush  came  and  threw  the  horse  at  the 
den's  mouth,  falling  dead  himself.  His  kinsfolk  came  out 
and  saw  him  blood-stained,  blood  flowing  from  his  wounds, 


dead  from  following  the  wicked;  and  his  father,  mother, 
sister  and  wife  seeing  him  spoke  four  stanzas  in  order: 

His  fortune  is  not  prosperous  whom  wicked  folk  entice; 
Look  at  Maiioja  lying1  there,  through  Giriya's  advice. 

No  joy  have  mothers  in  a  son  whose  comrades  are  not  good: 
Look  at  Manoja  lying  there  all  covered  with  his  blood. 

And  even  so  fares  still  the  man,  in  low  estate  he  lies, 

Who  follows  not  the  counsel  of  the  true  friend  and  the  wise. 

This,  or  worse  than  this,  his  fate 

Who  is  high,  but  trusts  the  low: 
See,  'tis  thus  from  kingly  state 

He  has  fallen  to  the  bow. 


Once  upon  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  a  tree-spirit  by  a  river-bank. 
A  jackal,  named  Mayavl,  had  taken  a  wife  and  lived  in  a 
place  by  that  river-bank.  One  day  his  mate  said  to  him, 
"Husband,  a  longing  has  come  upon  me:  I  desire  to  eat 
a  fresh  rohita  fish."  He  said,  "Be  easy,  I  will  bring  it 
you,"  and  going  by  the  river  he  wrapt  his  feet  in  creepers, 
and  went  along  the  bank.  At  the  moment,  two  otters, 
Gambhiracari  and  Anutlracarl,  were  standing  on  the  bank 
looking  for  fish.  Gambhiracari  saw  a  great  rohita  fish, 
and  entering  the  water  with  a  bound  he  took  it  by  the 
tail.  The  fish  was  strong  and  went  away  dragging  him. 
He  called  to  the  other,  "This  great  fish  will  be  enough 
for  both  of  us,  come  and  aid  me,"  speaking  the  first  stanza : 

Friend  Anutiracari,  rush  to  my  aid,  I  pray: 

I've  caught  a  great  fish:  but  by  force  he's  carrying  me  away. 

Hearing  him,  the  other  spoke  the  second  stanza : 

Gambhiracari,  luck  to  you!  your  grip  be  firm  and  stout, 
And  as  a  roc  would  lift  a  snake,  I'll  lift  the  fellow  out. 

268          THE   OTTERS   AND   THE   JACKAL 

Then  the  two  together  took  out  the  rohita  fish,  laid 
him  on  the  ground  and  killed  him:  but  saying  each  to 
the  other,  "You  divide  him,"  they  quarrelled  and  could 
not  divide  him:  and  so  sat  down,  leaving  him.  At  the 
moment  the  jackal  came  to  the  spot.  Seeing  him,  they 
both  saluted  him  and  said,  "  Lord  of  the  grey  grass-colour, 
this  fish  was  taken  by  both  of  us  together:  a  dispute  arose 
because  we  could  not  divide  him :  do  you  make  an  equal 
division  and  part  it,"  speaking  the  third  stanza: 

A  strife  arose  between  us,  mark!    O  thou  of  grassy  hue, 
Let  our  contention,  honoured,  sir,  be  settled  fair  by  you. 

The  jackal  hearing  them,  said,  declaring  his  own 
strength : 

I've  arbitrated  many  a  case  and  done  it  peacefully: 

Let  your  contention,  honoured  sirs,  be  settled  fair  by  me. 

Having  spoken  that  stanza,  and  making  the  division,  he 
spoke  this  stanza: 

Tail,  Anutiracari;   Gambhiracari,  head: 

The  middle  to  the  arbiter  will  properly  be  paid. 

So  having  divided  the  fish,  he  said,  "  You  eat  head  and 
tail  without  quarrelling,"  and  seizing  the  middle  portion 
in  his  mouth  he  ran  away  before  their  eyes.  They  sat 
downcast,  as  if  they  had  lost  a  thousand  pieces,  and  spoke 
the  sixth  stanza : 

But  for  our  strife,  it  would  have  long-  sufficed  us  without  fail: 
But  now  the  jackal  takes  the  fish,  and  leaves  us  head  and  tail. 

The  jackal  was  pleased  and  thinking  "  Now  I  will  give 
my  wife  rohita  fish  to  eat,"  he  went  to  her.  She  saw  him 
coming  and  saluting  him  spoke  a  stanza: 

Even  as  a  king  is  glad  to  join  a  kingdom  to  his  rule, 
So  I  am  glad  to  see  my  lord  to-day  with  his  mouth  full. 



(Jfitaku  400,  /«r>  wurx,  />.   :!<>7) 

THE   BRAHMIN   AND   THE   SNAKE         269 

Then  she  asked  him  about  the  means  of  attainment, 
speaking  a  stanza: 

How,  being1  of  the  land,  have  you  from  water  caught  a  fish? 
How  did  you  do  the  feat,  my  lord?  pray  answer  to  my  wish. 

The  jackal,  explaining  the  means  to  her,  spoke  the 
next  stanza: 

By  strife  it  is  their  weakness  comes,  by  strife  their  means  decay: 
By  strife  the  otters  lost  their  prize :  Mayavi,  eat  the  prey. 

Tib.  T.  xxxiv.  Related  are  P.  (T.)  in.  4,  (B.)  in.  2,  where  a  partridge  and  hare 
go  to  a  cat  to  decide  their  dispute  as  to  the  ownership  of  a  dwelling.  The  cat 
pretends  to  be  deaf,  asks  them  to  come  near,  and  kills  them  both.  La  Fontaine 
ix.  9,  L'Hmtre  et  les  Plaideurs  is  the  closest  parallel,  but  it  has  not  been  traced 
further  back  than  Boileau  (Ep.  n.),  who  learnt  it  from  his  father  in  his  youth.  The 
latter  is  said  to  have  got  it  from  an  old  Italian  comedy.  Very  close  also  is  Dods. 
n.  49,  The  litigious  Cats  (who  go  to  a  monkey  to  divide  a  piece  of  cheese).  Regnier 
in  his  edition  of  La  Fontaine  quotes  Julien  74,  where  two  goblins  dispute  as  to  the 
possession  of  a  magic  box,  staff,  and  shoes.  A  man  promises  to  divide  them  fairly, 
but  puts  on  the  magic  shoes  and  flies  away  with  all  the  possessions.  This  is  a 
variant  of  King  Putraka,  Som.  in.  (i.  13),  where  see  Tawney's  note.  On  magic 
treasures,  cf.  Jat.  186,  p.  149. 


Once  upon  a  time  a  king  called  Janaka  was  reigning 
in  Benares.  At  that  time  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  in  a 
brahmin  family,  and  they  called  his  name  young  Senaka. 
When  he  grew  up  he  learned  all  the  arts  of  Takkasila,  and 
returning  to  Benares  saw  the  king.  The  king  set  him  in 
the  place  of  minister  and  gave  him  great  glory.  He  taught 
the  king  things  temporal  and  spiritual.  Being  a  pleasant 
preacher  of  the  law  he  established  the  king  in  the  five 
precepts,  in  alms-giving,  in  keeping  the  fasts,  in  the  ten 
ways  of  right  action,  and  so  established  him  in  the  path 

270         THE   BRAHMIN   AND   THE   SXAKE 

of  virtue.  Throughout  the  kingdom  it  was  as  it  were  the 
time  of  the  appearing  of  the  Buddhas.  On  the  fortnightly 
fast  the  king,  the  viceroys  and  others  would  all  assemble 
and  decorate  the  place  of  meeting.  The  Bodhisatta  taught 
the  law  in  a  decorated  room  in  the  middle  of  a  deer-skin- 
couch  with  the  power  of  a  Buddha,  and  his  word  was  like 
the  preaching  of  Buddhas.  Then  a  certain  old  brahmin 
begging  for  money-alms  got  a  thousand  pieces,  left  them 
in  a  brahmin  family  and  went  to  seek  alms  again.  When 
he  had  gone,  that  family  spent  all  his  pieces.  He  came 
back  and  would  have  his  pieces  brought  him.  The  brahmin, 
being  unable  to  give  them  to  him,  gave  him  his  daughter 
to  wife.  The  other  brahmin  took  her  and  made  his  dwell- 
ing in  a  brahmin  village  not  far  from  Benares.  Because 
of  her  youth  his  wife  was  unsatisfied  in  desires  and  sinned 
with  another  young  brahmin.  There  are  sixteen  things 
that  cannot  be  satisfied:  and  what  are  these  sixteen? 
The  sea  is  not  satisfied  with  all  rivers,  nor  the  fire  with 
fuel,  nor  a  king  with  his  kingdom,  nor  a  fool  with  sins,  nor 
a  woman  with  three  things,  intercourse,  adornment  and 
child-bearing,  nor  a  brahmin  with  sacred  texts,  nor  a  sage 
with  ecstatic  meditation,  nor  a  novice  with  honour,  nor 
one  free  from  desire  with  penance,  nor  the  energetic  man 
with  energy,  nor  the  talker  with  talk,  nor  the  politic  man 
with  the  council,  nor  the  believer  with  serving  the  church, 
nor  the  liberal  man  with  giving  away,  nor  the  learned  with 
hearing  the  law,  nor  the  four  congregations1  with  seeing 
the  Buddha.  So  this  brahmin  woman,  being  unsatisfied 
with  intercourse,  wished  to  put  her  husband  away  and  do 
her  sin  with  boldness.  So  one  day  in  her  evil  purpose  she 
lay  down.  When  he  said,  "  How  is  it,  wife  ? "  she  answered, 
"  Brahmin,  I  cannot  do  the  work  of  your  house,  get  me  a 

1  Brethren,  Sisters,  laymen  and  laywomen. 

THE   BRAHMIN   AND   THE   SNAKE         271 

maid."  "  Wife,  I  have  no  money,  what  shall  I  give  to  get 
her  ? "  "  Seek  for  money  by  begging  for  alms  and  so  get 
her.''  "Then,  wife,  get  ready  something  for  my  journey." 
She  filled  a  skin-bag  with  baked  meal  and  unbaked  meal, 
and  gave  them  to  him.  The  brahmin,  going  through 
villages,  towns  and  cities,  got  seven  hundred  pieces,  and 
thinking,  "  This  money  is  enough  to  buy  slaves,  male  and 
female,"  he  was  returning  to  his  own  village :  at  a  certain 
place  convenient  for  water  he  opened  his  sack,  and  eating 
some  meal  he  went  down  to  drink  water  without  tying  the 
mouth.  Then  a  black  snake  in  a  hollow  tree,  smelling  the 
meal,  entered  the  bag  and  lay  down  in  a  coil  eating  the 
meal.  The  brahmin  came,  and  without  looking  inside 
fastened  the  sack  and  putting  it  on  his  shoulder  went  his 
way.  Then  a  spirit  living  in  a  tree,  sitting  in  a  hollow  of 
the  trunk,  said  to  him  on  the  way,  "  Brahmin,  if  you  stop 
on  the  way  you  will  die,  if  you  go  home  to-day  your  wife 
will  die,"  and  vanished.  He  looked,  but  not  seeing  the 
spirit  was  afraid  and  troubled  with  the  fear  of  death,  and 
so  came  to  the  gate  of  Benares  weeping  and  lamenting. 
It  was  the  fast  on  the  fifteenth  day,  the  day  of  the 
Bodhisatta's  preaching,  seated  on  the  decorated  seat  of 
the  law,  and  a  multitude  with  perfumes  and  flowers  and 
the  like  in  their  hands  came  in  troops  to  hear  the  preaching. 
The  brahmin  said,  "Where  are  ye  going?"  and  was  told, 
"O  brahmin,  to-day  wise  Senaka  preaches  the  law  with 
sweet  voice  and  the  charm  of  a  Buddha :  do  you  not  know  ? ' 
He  thought,  "They  say  he  is  a  wise  preacher,  and  I  am 
troubled  with  the  fear  of  death :  wise  men  are  able  to 
take  away  even  great  sorrow :  it  is  right  for  me  too  to  go 
there  and  hear  the  law."  So  he  went  with  them,  and  when 
the  assembly  and  the  king  among  them  had  sat  down 
round  about  the  Bodhisatta,  he  stood  at  the  outside,  not 

272         THE   BRAHMIN   AND   THE   SNAKE 

far  from  the  seat  of  the  law,  with  his  mealsack  on  his 
shoulder,  afraid  with  the  fear  of  death.  The  Bodhisatta 
preached  as  if  he  were  bringing  down  the  heavenly  Ganges 
or  showering  ambrosia.  The  multitude  became  well 
pleased,  and  making  applause  listened  to  the  preaching. 
Wise  men  have  far  sight.  At  that  moment  the  Bodhisatta, 
opening  his  eyes  gracious  with  the  five  graces,  surveyed 
the  assembly  on  every  side  and,  seeing  that  brahmin, 
thought,  "This  great  assembly  has  become  well  pleased 
and  listens  to  the  law,  making  applause,  but  that  one 
brahmin  is  ill  pleased  and  weeps:  there  must  be  some 
sorrow  within  him  to  cause  his  tears :  as  if  touching  rust 
with  acid,  or  making  a  drop  of  water  roll  from  a  lotus  leaf, 
I  will  teach  him  the  law,  making  him  free  from  sorrow 
and  well  pleased  in  mind."  So  he  called  him,  "  Brahmin, 
I  am  wise  Senaka,  now  will  I  make  thee  free  from  sorrow, 
speak  boldly,"  and  so  talking  with  him  he  spoke  the  first 
stanza : 

Thou  art  confused  in  thought,  disturbed  in  sense, 
Tears  streaming-  from  thine  eyes  are  evidence; 
What  hast  thou  lost,  or  what  dost  wish  to  gain 
By  coming-  hither?    Give  me  answer  plain. 

Then  the  brahmin,  declaring  his  cause  of  sorrow,  spoke 
the  second  stanza : 

If  I  go  home  my  wife  it  is  must  die, 
If  I  go  not,  the  yakkha  said,  'tis  I; 
That  is  the  thought  that  pierces  cruelly: 
Explain  the  matter,  Senaka,  to  me. 

The  Bodhisatta,  hearing  the  brahmin's  words,  spread 
the  net  of  knowledge  as  if  throwing  a  net  in  the  sea, 
thinking,  "There  are  many  causes  of  death  to  beings  in 
this  world:  some  die  sunk  in  the  sea,  or  seized  therein 
by  ravenous  fish,  some  falling  in  the  Ganges,  or  seized  by 

THE   BRAHMIN  AND   THE   SNAKE         273 

crocodiles,  some  falling  from  a  tree  or  pierced  by  a  thorn, 
some  struck  by  weapons  of  divers  kinds,  some  by  eating 
poison  or  hanging  or  falling  from  a  precipice  or  by  extreme 
cold  or  attacked  by  diseases  of  divers  kinds,  so  they  die : 
now  among  so  many  causes  of  death  from  which  cause 
shall  this  brahmin  die  if  he  stays  on  the  road  to-day,  or 
his  wife  if  he  goes  home  ? "  As  he  considered,  he  saw  the 
sack  on  the  brahmin's  shoulder  and  thought,  "  There  must 
be  a  snake  who  has  gone  into  that  sack,  and  entering  he 
must  have  gone  in  from  the  smell  of  the  meal  when  the 
brahmin  at  his  breakfast  had  eaten  some  meal  and  gone 
to  drink  water  without  fastening  the  sack's  mouth:  the 
brahmin  coming  back  after  drinking  water  must  have  gone 
on  after  fastening  and  taking  up  the  sack  without  seeing 
that  the  snake  had  entered :  if  he  stays  on  the  road,  he 
will  say  at  evening  when  he  rests,  '  I  will  eat  some  meal,' 
and  opening  the  sack  will  put  in  his  hand :  then  the  snake 
will  bite  him  in  the  hand  and  destroy  his  life :  this  will  be 
the  cause  of  his  death  if  he  stays  on  the  road :  but  if  he 
goes  home  the  sack  will  come  into  his  wife's  hand ;  she  will 
say,  '  I  will  look  at  the  ware  within,'  and  opening  the  sack 
put  in  her  hand,  then  the  snake  will  bite  her  and  destroy 
her  life,  and  this  will  be  the  cause  of  her  death  if  he  goes 
home  to-day."  This  he  knew  by  his  knowledge  of  expedients. 
Then  this  came  into  his  mind,  "  The  snake  must  be  a  black 
snake,  brave  and  fearless;  when  the  sack  strikes  against 
the  brahmin's  broadside,  he  shews  no  motion  or  quivering; 
he  shews  no  sign  of  his  being  there  amidst  such  an  assembly: 
therefore  he  must  be  a  black  snake,  brave  and  fearless  " : 
from  his  knowledge  of  expedients  he  knew  this  as  if  he 
was  seeing  with  a  divine  eye.  So  as  if  he  had  been  a  man 
who  had  stood  by  and  seen  the  snake  enter  the  sack, 
deciding  by  his  knowledge  of  expedients,  the  Bodhisatta 

F.  AT.  18 

274         THE   BRAHMIN   AND  THE   SNAKE 

answering  the  brahmin's  question  in  the  royal  assembly 
spoke  the  third  stanza: 

First  with  many  a  doubt  I  deal, 

Now  my  tongue  the  truth  declares; 
Brahmin,  in  your  bag  of  meal 

A  snake  has  entered  unawares. 

80  saying,  he  asked,  "  O  brahmin,  is  there  any  meal  in 
that  sack  of  yours  ? "  "  There  is,  O  sage."  "  Did  you  eat 
some  meal  to-day  at  your  breakfast  time  ? "  "  Yes,  O  sage." 
"  Where  were  you  sitting  ? "  "  In  a  wood,  at  the  root  of  a 
tree."  "  When  you  ate  the  meal,  and  went  to  drink  water, 
did  you  fasten  the  sack's  mouth  or  not ? "  "I  did  not,  O 
sage."  "When  you  drank  water  and  came  back,  did  you 
look  in  before  fastening  the  sack?"  "I  fastened  it  without 
looking  in,  O  sage."  "  O  brahmin,  when  you  went  to  drink 
water,  I  think  a  snake  entered  the  sack  owing  to  the 
smell  of  the  meal  without  your  knowledge:  such  is  the 
case :  therefore  put  down  your  sack,  set  it  in  the  midst 
of  the  assembly  and  opening  the  mouth,  stand  back  and 
taking  a  stick  beat  the  sack  with  it:  then  when  you  see 
a  black  snake  coming  out  with  its  hood  spread  and  hissing, 
you  will  have  no  doubt " :  so  he  spoke  the  fourth  stanza : 

Take  a  stick  and  beat  the  sack, 

Dumb  and  double-tongued  is  he; 
Cease  your  mind  with  doubts  to  rack; 

Ope  the  sack,  the  snake  you'll  see. 

The  brahmin,  hearing  the  Great  Being's  words,  did  so, 
though  alarmed  and  frightened.  The  snake  came  out 
of  the  sack  when  his  hood  was  struck  with  the  stick,  and 
stood  looking  at  the  crowd. 

When  the  question  had  been  so  answered  by  the 
Bodhisatta,  a  certain  snake-charmer  made  a  mouth-band 
for  the  snake,  caught  him  and  let  him  loose  in  the  forest. 

THE   BRAHMIN  AND   THE   SNAKE         275 

The  brahmin,  coming  up  to  the  king,  saluted  him  and 
made  obeisance,  and  praising  him  spoke  half  a  stanza : 

Well  won  is  Janaka  the  king's  great  gain, 
That  he  wise  Seiiaka  doth  see. 

After  praising  the  king,  he  took  seven  hundred  pieces 
from  the  bag  and  praising  the  Bodhisatta,  he  spoke  a 
stanza  and  a  half  wishing  to  give  a  gift  in  delight: 

Art  thou  the  All-seer,  queller  of  what  is  vain? 
Doth  wisdom  dread  belong  to  thee? 

These  seven  hundred  pieces,  see, 
Take  them  all,  I  give  them  thee; 
'Tis  to  thee  I  owe  my  life, 
And  the  welfare  of  my  wife. 

Hearing  this,  the  Bodhisatta  spoke  the  eighth  stanza  : 

For  reciting  poetry 

Wise  men  can't  accept  a  wage: 
Rather  let  us  give  to  thee, 

Ere  thou  take  the  homeward  stage. 

So  saying,  the  Bodhisatta  made  a  full  thousand  pieces 
to  be  given  to  the  brahmin,  and  asked  him,  "By  whom 
were  you  sent  to  beg  for  money  ? "  "  By  my  wife,  O  sage." 
"  Is  your  wife  old  or  young  ? "  "  Young,  O  sage."  "  Then 
she  is  doing  sin  with  another,  and  sent  you  away  thinking 
to  do  so  in  security :  if  you  take  these  pieces  home,  she 
will  give  to  her  lover  the  pieces  won  by  your  labour: 
therefore  you  should  not  go  home  straight,  but  only  after 
leaving  the  pieces  outside  the  town  at  the  root  of  a  tree 
or  somewhere":  so  he  sent  him  away.  He,  coming  near 
the  village,  left  his  pieces  at  the  root  of  a  tree,  and  came 
home  in  the  evening.  His  wife  at  that  moment  was  seated 
with  her  lover.  The  brahmin  stood  at  the  door  and  said, 
"Wife."  She  recognised  his  voice,  and  putting  out  the 


276         THE  BRAHMIN  AND  THE   SNAKE 

light  opened  the  door:  when  the  brahmin  came  in,  she 
took  the  other  and  put  him  at  the  door :  then  coming  back 
and  not  seeing  anything  in  the  sack  she  asked,  "  Brahmin, 
what  alms  have  you  got  on  your  journey?"  "A  thousand 
pieces."  "Where  is  it?"  "It  is  left  at  such  and  such  a 
place:  never  mind,  we  will  get  it  to-morrow."  She  went 
and  told  her  lover.  He  went  and  took  it  as  if  it  were  his 
own  treasure.  Next  day  the  brahmin  went,  and  not  seeing 
the  pieces  came  to  the  Bodhisatta,  who  said,  "What  is  the 
matter,  brahmin ? "  "I  don't  see  the  pieces,  O  sage."  " Did 
you  tell  your  wife?"  "Yes,  O  sage."  Knowing  that  the 
wife  had  told  her  lover,  the  Bodhisatta  asked,  "Brahmin, 
is  there  a  brahmin  who  is  a  friend  of  your  wife's  ? "  "  There 
is,  O  sage."  "Is  there  one  who  is  a  friend  of  yours?" 
"  Yes,  O  sage."  Then  the  Great  Being  caused  seven  days' 
expenses  to  be  given  him  and  said,  "  Go,  do  you  two  invite 
and  entertain  the  first  day  fourteen  brahmins,  seven  for 
yourself  and  seven  for  your  wife :  from  next  day  onwards 
take  one  less  each  day,  till  on  the  seventh  day  you  invite 
one  brahmin  and  your  wife  one :  then  if  you  notice  that 
the  brahmin  your  wife  asks  on  the  seventh  day  has  come 
every  time,  tell  me."  The  brahmin  did  so,  and  told  the 
Bodhisatta,  "  O  sage,  I  have  observed  the  brahmin  who  is 
always  our  guest."  The  Bodhisatta  sent  men  with  him  to 
bring  that  other  brahmin,  and  asked  him,  "Did  you  take 
a  thousand  pieces  belonging  to  this  brahmin  from  the 
root  of  such  and  such  a  tree  ? "  "I  did  not,  O  sage."  "  You 
do  not  know  that  I  am  the  wise  Senaka ;  I  will  make  you 
fetch  those  pieces."  He  was  afraid  and  confessed,  saying, 
"I  took  them."  "  What  did  you  do ?"  " I  put  them  in  such 
and  such  a  place,  O  sage."  The  Bodhisatta  asked  the  first 
brahmin,  "Brahmin,  will  you  keep  your  wife  or  take 
another  ? "  "  Let  me  keep  her,  O  sage."  The  Bodhisatta 


sent  men  to  fetch  the  pieces  and  the  wife,  and  gave  the 
brahmin  the  pieces  from  the  thief's  hand;  he  punished 
the  other,  removing  him  from  the  city,  punished  also  the 
wife,  and  gave  great  honour  to  the  brahmin,  making  him 
dwell  near  himself. 

Variant  of  two  episodes  in  the  life  of  Mahaushadha,   Tib.  T.  vm.  144ff.,  which 
is  a  variant  of  the  Mahaummagga-jat.  546. 


Once  upon  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  king  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  as  a  monkey,  and  lived 
in  the  king's  garden  with  a  retinue  of  five  hundred  monkeys. 
Devadatta1  was  also  born  as  a  monkey,  and  lived  there 
also  with  a  retinue  of  five  hundred  monkeys.  Then  one 
day  when  the  king's  family  priest  had  gone  to  the  garden, 
bathed  and  adorned  himself,  one  tricky  monkey  going 
ahead  of  him  sat  above  the  gateway  arch  of  the  garden, 
and  let  excrement  fall  on  the  priest's  head  as  he  went  out. 
When  the  priest  looked  up,  he  let  it  fall  again  in  his  mouth. 
The  priest  turned  back,  saying  in  threat  to  the  monkeys, 
"  Very  well,  I  shall  know  how  to  deal  with  you,"  and  went 
away  after  washing.  They  told  the  Bodhisatta  that  he 
had  been  angry  and  threatened  the  monkeys.  He  made 
announcement  to  the  thousand  monkeys,  "It  is  not  well 
to  dwell  near  the  habitation  of  the  angry ;  let  the  whole 
troop  of  monkeys  flee  and  go  elsewhere."  A  disobedient 
monkey  took  his  own  retinue  and  did  not  flee,  saying, 
"  I  will  see  about  it  afterwards."  The  Bodhisatta  took  his 

1  Cousin  of  the  Buddha.  He  made  a  schism  in  the  Order,  and  attempted  to  kill 
Buddha.  This  tale  was  told  when  Devadatta  was  swallowed  up  by  the  earth,  after 
his  last  attempt  on  Buddha's  life.  Cf.  also  p.  281. 


own  retinue  and  went  to  the  forest.  One  day  a  female 
slave  pounding  rice  had  put  some  rice  out  in  the  sun  and 
a  goat  was  eating  it:  getting  a  blow  with  a  torch  and 
running  away  on  fire,  he  was  rubbing  himself  on  the  wall 
of  a  grass-hut  near  an  elephant-stable.  The  fire  caught 
the  grass-hut  and  from  it  the  elephant-stable;  in  it  the 
elephants'  backs  were  burnt,  and  the  elephant  doctors 
were  attending  the  elephants.  The  family  priest  was 
always  going  about  watching  for  an  opportunity  of  catch- 
ing the  monkeys.  He  was  sitting  in  attendance  on  the 
king,  and  the  king  said,  "  Sir,  many  of  our  elephants  have 
been  injured,  and  the  elephant  doctors  do  not  know  how 
to  cure  them ;  do  you  know  any  remedy ? "  "I  do,  great 
king."  "  What  is  it  ? "  "  Monkey's  fat,  great  king."  "  How 
shall  we  get  it?"  "There  are  many  monkeys  in  the 
garden."  The  king  said,  "Kill  monkeys  in  the  garden 
and  get  their  fat."  The  archers  went  and  killed  five 
hundred  monkeys  with  arrows.  One  old  monkey  fled 
although  wounded  by  an  arrow,  and  though  he  did  not 
fall  on  the  spot,  fell  when  he  came  to  the  Bodhisatta's 
place  of  abode.  The  monkeys  said,  "  He  has  died  when 
he  reached  our  place  of  abode,"  and  told  the  Bodhisatta 
that  he  was  dead  from  a  wound  he  had  got.  He  came 
and  sat  down  among  the  assembly  of  monkeys,  and  spoke 
these  stanzas  by  way  of  exhorting  the  monkeys  with  the 
exhortation  of  the  wise,  which  is  "  Men  dwelling  near  their 
enemies  perish  in  this  way  " : 

Let  not  the  wise  man  dwell  where  dwells  his  foe: 
One  night,  two  nights,  so  near  will  bring  him  woe. 

A  fool's  a  foe  to  all  who  trust  his  word : 
One  monkey  brought  distress  on  all  the  herd. 

A  foolish  chief,  wise  in  his  own  conceit, 
Comes  ever,  like  this  monkey,  to  defeat. 


A  strong  fool  is  not  good  to  guard  the  herd, 
Curse  to  his  kindred,  like  the  decoy-bird. 

One  strong  and  wise  is  good  the  herd  to  guard, 
Like  Indra  to  the  Gods,  his  kin's  reward. 

"Who  virtue,  wisdom,  learning,  doth  possess, 
His  deeds  himself  and  other  men  will  bless. 

Therefore  virtue,  knowledge,  learning,  and  himself  let  him  regard, 
Either  be  a  lonely  Saint  or  o'er  the  flock  keep  watch  and  ward. 

So  the  Bodhisatta,  becoming  king  of  monkeys,  explained 
the  way  of  learning  the  Discipline. 

Tib.  T.  XLIII.,  where  "monkeys  cooked  in  barley-meal"  are  prescribed  by  the 
doctor.  In  P.  (B.)  v.  10  monkeys  are  slaughtered  for  the  same  reason,  and  the 
monkey-leader  in  carrying  out  his  revenge  goes  to  an  ogre-haunted  pool,  and 
escapes.  This  episode  is  a  variant  of  Jat.  20  (see  p.  23)  and  55.  In  the  variant 
Jat.  140  the  victims  are  crows,  and  crows'  fat  is  prescribed  for  the  elephants.  In 
Tib.  T.  v.  a  brahmin  prescribes  the  fat  of  a  superhuman  being  as  part  of  a  charm, 
in  order  to  bring  about  the  death  of  the  prince's  wife,  who  is  a  fairy.  The  incident 
of  the  goat  and  firing  of  the  stable  is  the  subject  of  Julien  33. 


Once  upon  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  as  a  monkey.  When  he 
grew  up  and  attained  stature  and  stoutness,  he  was  strong 
and  vigorous,  and  lived  in  the  Himalaya  with  a  retinue  of 
eighty  thousand  monkeys.  Near  the  Ganges  bank  there 
was  a  mango  tree  (others  say  it  was  a  banyan),  with 
branches  and  forks,  having  a  deep  shade  and  thick  leaves, 
like  a  mountain-top.  Its  sweet  fruits,  of  divine  fragrance 
and  flavour,  were  as  large  as  water-pots :  from  one  branch 
the  fruits  fell  on  the  ground,  from  one  into  the  Ganges 
water,  from  two  into  the  main  trunk  of  the  tree.  The 
Bodhisatta,  wiiile  eating  the  fruit  with  a  troop  of  monkeys, 
thought,  "  Someday  danger  will  come  upon  us  owing  to 
the  fruit  of  this  tree  falling  on  the  water " ;  and  so,  not  to 
leave  one  fruit  on  the  branch  which  grew  over  the  water, 


he  made  them  eat  or  throw  down  the  flowers  at  their 
season  from  the  time  they  were  of  the  size  of  a  chick-pea. 
But  notwithstanding,  one  ripe  fruit,  unseen  by  the  eighty 
thousand  monkeys,  hidden  by  an  ant's  nest,  fell  into  the 
river,  and  stuck  in  the  net  above  the  king  of  Benares,  who 
was  bathing  for  amusement  with  a  net  above  him  and 
another  below.  When  the  king  had  amused  himself  all 
day  and  was  going  away  in  the  evening,  the  fishermen, 
who  were  drawing  the  net,  saw  the  fruit  and  not  knowing 
what  it  was,  shewed  it  to  the  king.  The  king  asked, 
"What  is  this  fruit?"  "We  do  not  know,  sire."  "Who 
will  know  ? "  "  The  foresters,  sire."  He  had  the  foresters 
called,  and  learning  from  them  that  it  was  a  mango,  he 
cut  it  with  a  knife,  and  first  making  the  foresters  eat  of 
it,  he  ate  of  it  himself  and  had  some  of  it  given  to  his 
seraglio  and  his  ministers.  The  flavour  of  the  ripe 
mango  remained  pervading  the  king's  whole  body.  Pos- 
sessed by  desire  of  the  flavour,  he  asked  the  foresters 
where  that  tree  stood,  and  hearing  that  it  was  on  a  river 
bank  in  the  Himalaya  quarter,  he  had  many  rafts  joined 
together  and  sailed  upstream  by  the  route  shewn  by  the 
foresters.  The  exact  account  of  days  is  not  given.  In 
due  course  they  came  to  the  place,  and  the  foresters  said 
to  the  king,  "Sire,  there  is  the  tree."  "The  king  stopped 
the  rafts  and  went  on  foot  with  a  great  retinue,  and 
having  a  bed  prepared  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  he  lay 
down  after  eating  the  mango  fruit  and  enjoying  the 
various  excellent  flavours.  At  every  side  they  set  a  guard 
and  made  a  fire.  When  the  men  had  fallen  asleep,  the 
Bodhisatta  came  at  midnight  with  his  retinue.  Eighty 
thousand  monkeys  moving  from  branch  to  branch  ate 
the  mangoes.  The  king,  waking  and  seeing  the  herd  of 
monkeys,  roused  his  men  and  calling  his  archers  said, 


"Surround  these  monkeys  that  eat  the  mangoes  so  that 
they  may  not  escape,  and  shoot  them :  to-morrow  we  will 
eat  mangoes  with  monkey's  flesh."  The  archers  obeyed, 
saying,  "  Very  well,"  and  surrounding  the  tree  stood  with 
arrows  ready.  The  monkeys  seeing  them  and  fearing 
death,  as  they  could  not  escape,  came  to  the  Bodhisatta 
and  said,  "  Sire,  the  archers  stand  round  the  tree,  saying, 
*  We  will  shoot  those  vagrant  monkeys ' :  what  are  we  to 
do  ? "  and  so  stood  shivering.  The  Bodhisatta  said,  "  Do 
not  fear,  I  will  give  you  life  " ;  and  so  comforting  the  herd 
of  monkeys,  he  ascended  a  branch  that  rose  up  straight, 
went  along  another  branch  that  stretched  towards  the 
Ganges,  and  springing  from  the  end  of  it,  he  passed 
a  hundred  bow-lengths  and  lighted  on  a  bush  on  the 
bank.  Coming  down,  he  marked  the  distance,  saying, 
"  That  will  be  the  distance  I  have  come " :  and  cutting 
a  bamboo  shoot  at  the  root  and  stripping  it,  he  said,  "  So 
much  will  be  fastened  to  the  tree,  and  so  much  will  stay 
in  the  air,"  and  so  reckoned  the  two  lengths,  forgetting 
the  part  fastened  on  his  own  waist.  Taking  the  shoot  he 
fastened  one  end  of  it  to  the  tree  on  the  Ganges  bank 
and  the  other  to  his  own  waist,  and  then  cleared  the 
space  of  a  hundred  bow-lengths  with  a  speed  of  a  cloud 
torn  by  the  wind.  From  not  reckoning  the  part  fastened 
to  his  waist,  he  failed  to  reach  the  tree:  so  seizing  a 
branch  firmly  with  both  hands  he  gave  signal  to  the 
troop  of  monkeys,  "  Go  quickly  with  good  luck,  treading 
on  my  back  along  the  bamboo  shoot."  The  eighty 
thousand  monkeys  escaped  thus,  after  saluting  the 
Bodhisatta  and  getting  his  leave.  Devadatta  was  then  a 
monkey  and  among  that  herd :  he  said,  "  This  is  a  chance 
for  me  to  see  the  last  of  my  enemy,"  so  climbing  up 
a  branch  he  made  a  spring  and  fell  on  the  Bodhisatta's 


back.  The  Bodhisatta's  heart  broke  and  great  pain  came 
on  him.  Devadatta  having  caused  that  maddening-  pain 
went  away:  and  the  Bodhisatta  was  alone.  The  king 
being  awake  sa*w  all  that  was  done  by  the  monkeys  and 
the  Bodhisatta :  and  he  lay  down  thinking,  "  This  animal, 
not  reckoning  his  own  life,  has  caused  the  safety  of  his 
troop."  When  day  broke,  being  pleased  with  the  Bodhi- 
satta, he  thought,  "  It  is  not  right  to  destroy  this  king  of 
the  monkeys :  I  will  bring  him  down  by  some  means  and 
take  care  of  him  " :  so  turning  the  raft  down  the  Ganges 
and  building  a  platform  there,  he  made  the  Bodhisatta 
come  down  gently,  and  had  him  clothed  with  a  yellow 
robe  on  his  back  and  washed  in  Ganges  water,  made  him 
drink  sugared  water,  and  had  his  body  cleansed  and 
anointed  with  oil  refined  a  thousand  times ;  then  he  put 
an  oiled  skin  on  a  bed  and  making  him  lie  there,  he  set 
himself  on  a  low  seat,  and  spoke  the  first  stanza : 

You  made  yourself  a  bridge  for  them  to  pass  in  safety  through: 
What  are  you  then  to  them,  monkey,  and  what  are  they  to  you? 

Hearing   him,   the   Bodhisatta    instructing    the    king 
spoke  the  other  stanzas: 

Victorious  king,  I  guard  the  herd,  I  am  their  lord  and  chief, 
When  they  were  filled  with  fear  of  thee  and  stricken  sore  with  grief. 

I  leapt  a  hundred  times  the  length  of  bow  outstretched  that  lies, 
When  I  had  bound  a  bamboo-shoot  firmly  around  my  thighs: 

I  reached  the  tree  like  thunder-cloud  sped  by  the  tempest's  blast; 
I  lost  my  strength,  but  reached  a  bough :  with  hands  I  held  it  fast. 

And  as  I  hung  extended  there  held  fast  by  shoot  and  bough, 
My  monkeys  passed  across  my  back  and  are  in  safety  now. 

Therefore  I  fear  no  pain  of  death,  bonds  do  not  give  me  pain, 
The  happiness  of  those  was  won  o'er  whom  I  used  to  reign. 

A  parable  for  thee,  0  king,  if  thou  the  truth  would'st  read : 

The  happiness  of  kingdom  and  of  army  and  of  steed 

And  city  must  be  dear  to  thee,  if  thou  would'st  rule  indeed. 



(Jritnkii  4(17.   tln-i-i>  .v,r///-.v.  /,//.   i'!!l.   i'!ii') 

THE  PRINCE  AND   HIS   BROTHER        283 

The  Bodhisatta,  thus  instructing  and  teaching  the 
king,  died.  The  king,  calling  his  ministers,  gave  orders 
that  the  monkey-king  should  have  obsequies  like  a 
king,  and  he  sent  to  the  seraglio,  saying,  "Come  to  the 
cemetery,  as  retinue  for  the  monkey-king,  with  red  gar- 
ments, and  dishevelled  hair,  and  torches  in  your  hands." 
The  ministers  made  a  funeral  pile  with  a  hundred  waggon 
loads  of  timber.  Having  prepared  the  Bodhisatta's  ob- 
sequies in  a  royal  manner,  they  took  his  skull,  and  came 
to  the  king.  The  king  caused  a  shrine  to  be  built  at  the 
Bodhisatta's  burial-place,  torches  to  be  burnt  there  and 
offerings  of  incense  and  flowers  to  be  made ;  he  had  the 
skull  inlaid  with  gold,  and  put  in  front  raised  on  a  spear- 
point  :  honouring  it  with  incense  and  flowers,  he  put  it  at 
the  king's  gate  when  he  came  to  Benares,  and  having  the 
whole  city  decked  out  he  paid  honour  to  it  for  seven 
days.  Then  taking  it  as  a  relic  and  raising  a  shrine,  he 
honoured  it  with  incense  and  garlands  all  his  life ;  and 
established  in  the  Bodhisatta's  teaching  he  did  alms  and 
other  good  deeds,  and  ruling  his  kingdom  righteously 
became  destined  for  heaven. 

In  the  Jatakamald  xxvii.  the  incident  of  Devadatta's  malice  does  not  occur.  The 
monkey's  leap  across  the  Ganges  is  illustrated  in  the  Bharhut  Stupa,  pi.  xxxin.  4. 
Of.  the  note  on  Devadatta,  p.  277. 



Once  upon  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  reigning  in 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  as  the  son  of  his  chief 
queen.  When  he  grew  up,  he  learned  all  the  arts  at 
Takkasila,  and  acquired  a  spell  for  the  understanding  of 


afl  ^"iia1-  crie-      After  listeninir  dulv  to  his  teacher,  he 


returned  to  Benares  Hi-  father  appointed  him  viceroy : 
but  though  he  did  so.  he  became  anxious  to  kill  him  and 

ild  not  even  see  him. 

A  ackal  with  two  cubs  entered  the  city  at  ni^ht 

by  a  sewer,  when  men  were  retired  to  re-:  In  the 
Bodhiaana's  palace,  near  hi-  bedroom,  there  wa-  a 
chamber,  where  a  single  traveller,  who  had  taken  hi- 
gh'. -  if  and  put  them  by  his  feet  on  the  floor.  was  lying 
down,  not  yet  asleep,  on  a  plank.  The  jackal-cubs  were 
hungry  and  ^rave  a  cry.  Their  mother  said  in  the  speech 
of  jackal*.  "  Do  not  make  a  noise  dear- :  there  is  a  man  in 
that  chamber  who  ha-  taken  hi-?  shoes  off  and  laid  them 
on  the  floor :  he  is  lyin^  on  a  plank,  but  is  not  asleep  yet : 
when  he  falls  asleep.  I  will  take  hi-  -hoe-  and  trive  you 
food."  By  the  power  of  the  .-pell  the  Bodhisatta  under- 
i  her  call,  and  leaving  his  bedroom  he  opened  a 
window  and  said.  "Who  is  there  I.  your  maje-ty. 

a  traveller."  -Where  are  vour  -ho>.~  "  un  the  floor." 


"Lift  them  and  hang  them  up."  Hearing  thi-  the  jackal 
wa  _-ry  with  the  BodhLsatta.  One  day  -he  entered  the 
citv  a^rain  bv  the  same  wav.  ']  :jat  dav  a  drunken  man 

•  •  *  • 

went  do'-vn  to  drink  in  a  lotus-tank:  falling  in.  he  .-ank 

and  was  drowned.     H          -  ;  the  two  £rarrnent.s  he 

*'*.-         ring  a  thousand  pi       -  in  hi-  under-gaiinent.  and 

a  ri:i_r  on  hi-  fi:j^».-r.    The  jackal-cubs  cried  out  for  hunger, 

and  the  mother  said,  "  Be  quiet,  dears :  there  is  a  dead 

man  in  thl-  lotu--tank,  he  had  such  and  .-uch  property : 

he  is  lying  dead  on  the  tank-stair.  I  will  _qve  you  hi-  flesh 

to  •  •    i'j    ihisatta,  hearing  her.  opened  the  window 

H    :       ':-  .      i-  in  the  charnb'.  One  rose  and  said, 

I  j    and    take    the    clothes,    the    thou-and    pieces 

d  the  ring  from  the  man  who  is  lyin^r  dead  in  yonder 


lotus-tank,  and  make  the  bodv  sink  so  that  it  cannot 


out  of  the  water.  "  The  man  did  so.  The  jackal  was  angry 
again  :  "  The  other  day  you  prevented  my  children  eating 
the  shoes  :  to-day  you  prevent  them  eating  the  dead  man, 
Verv  well  :  on  the  third  dav  from  this  a  hostile  kin^  will 

»  » 

come  and  encompass  the  city,  your  father  will  send  you 
to  battle,  thev  will  cut  off  vour  head  :  I  will  drink  vour 

%  »  • 

throat  s  blood  and  satisfv  mv  enniitv:  vou  make  vourself 

»  •  «          •  • 

an  enemy  of  mine  and  I  will  see  to  it  ~  :  so  she  cried 
abusing  the  Bodhisatta.  Then  she  took  her  cubs  and  went 
awav.  On  the  third  dav  the  hostile  kin£  came  and  en- 

»  » 

compassed  the  city.  The  king:  said  to  the  Bodhisatta. 
"Go.  dear  son.  and  fight  him."  "O  king.  I  have  seen 
a  vision  :  I  cannot  co.  for  I  fear  I  shall  lose  my  life." 
"What  is  your  life  or  death  to  me;  Go  The  Great 
Being  obeyed  :  taking  his  men  he  avoided  the  gate  where 
the  hostile  king  was  posted,  and  went  out  by  another 
which  he  had  opened.  As  he  went  the  whole  city 
became  as  it  were  deserted,  for  all  men  went  out  with 
him.  He  encamped  in  a  certain  open  space  and  waited. 
The  king  thought,  "  My  viceroy  has  emptied  the  city  and 
fled  with  all  mv  forces  :  the  enemv  is  Iviiisr  all  round  the 

»  *  * 

city  :  1  am  but  a  dead  man.  To  save  his  life  he  took  his 
chief  queen,  his  family  priest,  and  a  single  attendant 
named  Parantapa  :  with  them  he  tied  in  disguise  by  night 
and  entered  a  wood.  Hearing  of  his  night,  the  Bodhisatta 
entered  the  citv.  defeated  the  hostile  kinir  in  battle  and 


took  the  kingdom.  His  father  made  a  hut  of  leaves  on 
a  river  bank  and  lived  there  on  wild  fruits.  He  and  the 
family  priest  used  to  go  looking  for  wild  fruits  :  the 
<ervant  Parantapa  stayed  with  the  queen  in  the  hut. 
She  was  with  child  by  the  king:  but  owing  to  being 
constantly  with  Parantapa,  she  sinned  with  him.  One 

286         THE   PRINCE  AND   HES   BROTHER 

day  she  said  to  him,  "  If  the  king  knows,  neither  you  nor 
I  would  live:  kill  him."  "In  what  way?"  "He  makes 
you  carry  his  sword  and  bathing-dress  when  he  goes  to 
bathe :  take  him  off  his  guard  at  the  bathing-place,  cut 
off  his  head  and  chop  his  body  to  pieces  with  the  sword 
and  then  bury  him  in  the  ground."  He  agreed.  One  day 
the  priest  had  gone  out  for  wild  fruits:  he  had  climbed 
a  tree  near  the  king's  bathing-place  and  was  gathering 
the  fruit.  The  king  wished  to  bathe,  and  came  to  the 
water-side  with  Parantapa  carrying  his  sword  and  bathing- 
dress.  As  he  was  going  to  bathe,  Parantapa,  meaning  to 
kill  him  when  off  his  guard,  seized  him  by  the  neck  and 
raised  the  sword.  The  king  cried  out  in  fear  of  death. 
The  priest  heard  the  cry  and  saw  from  above  that  Paran- 
tapa was  murdering  him :  but  he  was  in  great  terror  and 
slipping  down  from  his  branch  in  the  tree,  he  hid  in  a 
thicket.  Parantapa  heard  the  noise  he  made  as  he 
slipped  down,  and  after  killing  and  burying  the  king  he 
thought,  "There  was  a  noise  of  slipping  from  a  branch 
thereabouts ;  who  is  there  ? "  But  seeing  no  man  he 
bathed  and  went  away.  Then  the  priest  came  out  of  his 
hiding-place ;  knowing  that  the  king  had  been  cut  in 
pieces  and  buried  in  a  pit,  he  bathed  and  in  fear  of  his 
life  he  pretended  to  be  blind  when  he  came  back  to  the 
hut.  Parantapa  saw  him  and  asked  what  had  happened 
to  him.  He  feigned  not  to  know  him  and  said,  "O  king, 
I  am  come  back  with  my  eyes  lost :  I  was  standing  by  an 
ant-hill  in  a  wood  full  of  serpents,  and  the  breath  of  some 
venomous  serpent  must  have  fallen  on  me.''  Parantapa 
thought  the  priest  was  addressing  him  as  king  in  ignor- 
ance, and  to  put  his  mind  at  rest  he  said,  "  Brahmin,  never 
mind,  I  will  take  care  of  you,"  and  so  comforted  him  and 
gave  him  plenty  of  wild  fruits.  From  that  time  it  was 

THE   PRINCE   AND   HIS   BROTHER         287 

Parantapa  who  gathered  the  fruits.  The  queen  bore  a 
son.  As  he  was  growing  up,  she  said  to  Parantapa  one 
day  at  early  morning  when  seated  comfortably,  "Some 
one  saw  you  when  you  were  killing  the  king  ? "  "  No  one 
saw  me :  but  I  heard  the  noise  of  something  slipping  from 
a  bough :  whether  it  was  man  or  beast  I  cannot  tell :  but 
whenever  fear  comes  on  me  it  must  be  from  the  cause  of 
the  boughs  creaking,"  and  so  in  conversation  with  her  he 
spoke  the  first  stanza : 

Terror  and  fear  fall  cm  me  even  now, 

For  then  a  man  or  beast  did  shake  a  bough. 

They  thought  the  priest  was  asleep,  but  he  was  awake 
and  heard  their  talk.  One  day,  when  Parantapa  had  gone 
for  wild  fruits,  the  priest  remembered  his  brahmin-wife 
and  spoke  the  second  stanza  in  lamentation: 

My  true  wife's  home  is  near  at  hand:  my  love  will  make  me  be 
Pale  like  Parantapa  and  thin,  at  quivering1  of  a  tree. 

The  queen  asked  what  he  was  saying.  He  said,  "  I  was 
only  thinking " :  but  one  day  again  he  spoke  the  third 
stanza : 

My  dear  wife's  in  Benares :  her  absence  wears  me  now 
To  pallor  like  Parantapa's  at  shaking-  of  a  bough. 

Again  one  day  he  spoke  a  fourth  stanza : 

Her  black  eye's  glow,  her  speech  and  smiles  in  thought  do  bring 

me  now 
To  pallor  like  Parantapa's  at  shaking  of  a  bough. 

In  time  the  young  prince  grew  up  and  reached  the 
age  of  sixteen.  Then  the  brahmin  made  him  take  a  stick, 
and  going  with  him  to  the  bathing-place  opened  his  eyes 
and  looked.  "Are  you  not  blind,  brahmin?"  said  the 
prince.  "  I  am  not,  but  by  this  means  I  have  saved  my 
life:  do  you  know  who  is  your  father?"  "Yes."  "That 

288         THE  PRINCE   AND   HIS   BROTHER 

man  is  not  your  father :  your  father  was  king  of  Benares : 
that  man  is  a  servant  of  your  house,  he  sinned  with  your 
mother  and  in  this  spot  killed  and  buried  your  father1';  and 
so  saying  he  pulled  up  the  bones  and  shewed  them  to  him. 
The  prince  grew  very  angry,  and  asked,  "What  am  I  to 
do  ? "  "  Do  to  that  man  what  he  did  to  your  father  here," 
and  shewing  him  the  whole  matter  he  taught  him  in  a  few 
days  how  to  handle  a  sword.  Then  one  day  the  prince 
took  sword  and  bathing-dress  and  said,  "  Father,  let  us  go 
and  bathe."  Parantapa  consented  and  went  with  him. 
When  he  went  down  into  the  water,  the  prince  took  his 
top-knot  in  the  left  hand  and  the  sword  in  the  right,  and 
said,  "At  this  spot  you  took  my  father  by  the  top-knot 
and  killed  him  as  he  cried  out:  even  so  will  I  do  to 
you."  Parantapa  wailed  in  fear  of  death  and  spoke  two 
stanzas : 

Surely  that  sound  has  come  to  you  and  told  you  what  befell: 
Surely  the  man  who  bent  the  bough  has  come  the  tale  to  tell. 

The  foolish  thought  that  once  I  had  has  reached  your  knowledge  now : 
That  day  a  witness,  man  or  beast,  was  there  and  shook  the  bough. 

Then  the  prince  spoke  the  last  stanza : 

'Twas  thus  you  slew  my  father  with  trait'rous  word,  untrue; 
You  hid  his  body  in  the  boughs-,  now  fear  has  come  to  you. 

So  saying,  he  slew  him  on  the  spot,  buried  him  and 
covered  the  place  with  branches :  then  washing  the  sword 
and  bathing,  he  went  back  to  the  hut  of  leaves.  He  told 
the  priest  how  he  had  killed  Parantapa :  he  censured  his 
mother,  and  saying,  "  What  shall  we  do  now  ? "  the  three 
went  back  to  Benares.  The  Bodhisatta  made  the  young 
prince  viceroy  and  doing  charity  and  other  good  works 
passed  fully  through  the  path  to  heaven. 

See  Frazer,  The  Language  of  Animals  in  Archaeol.  Rcc.  i.  80  ff. 


The  Master  told  this  tale  while  dwelling  in  Jetavana, 
concerning  a  certain  she-goat.  At  one  time  the  Elder 
Moggallana  lived  in  a  dwelling  with  one  door,  in  a  moun- 
tain enclosure,  surrounded  by  hills.  His  covered  walk 
was  close  by  the  door.  Some  goatherds  thought  the 
enclosure  would  be  a  good  place  for  their  goats,  so  they 
drove  them  in  and  lived  there  at  their  pleasure.  One  day 
they  came  in  the  evening,  took  all  the  goats,  and  went 
away :  but  one  she-goat  had  wandered  far,  and  not  seeing 
the  goats  departing,  she  was  left  behind.  As  she  was 
going  after  them,  a  panther  saw  her,  and  thinking  to 
eat  her  stood  by  the  door  of  the  enclosure.  She  looked 
all  round,  and  saw  the  panther.  "  He  is  there  because  he 
wishes  to  kill  and  eat  me,"  she  thought;  "if  I  turn  and 
run,  my  life  is  lost ;  I  must  play  the  man,"  and  so  she 
tossed  her  horns,  and  sprang  straight  at  him  with  all  her 
might.  She  escaped  his  grip,  though  he  was  quivering 
with  the  thought  of  catching  her:  then  running  at  full 
speed  she  came  up  with  the  other  goats.  The  Elder 
observed  how  all  the  animals  had  behaved:  next  day 
he  went  and  told  the  Buddha,  "So,  lord,  this  she-goat 
performed  a  feat  by  her  readiness  in  device,  and  escaped 
from  the  panther."  The  Master  answered,  "Moggallana, 
the  panther  failed  to  catch  her  this  time,  but  once  before 
he  killed  her  though  she  cried  out,  and  ate  her."  Then  at 
Moggallana's  request,  he  told  an  old  tale. 

Once  upon  a  time  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  in  a  certain 
village  of  the  Magadha  kingdom,  in  a  wealthy  family. 
When  he  grew  up,  he  renounced  desires  and  adopted 
the  religious  life,  reaching  the  perfection  of  meditation. 

P.  &  T.  19 


After  dwelling  long  in  the  Himalaya,  he  came  to  Rajagaha 
for  salt  and  vinegar,  and  dwelt  in  a  hut  of  leaves  which  he 
made  in  a  mountain  enclosure.  Just  as  in  the  intro- 
ductory story,  the  goatherds  drove  their  goats  thither: 
and  in  the  same  way,  one  day  as  a  single  she-goat  was 
going  out  later  than  the  rest,  a  panther  waited  by  the 
door,  thinking  to  eat  her.  When  she  saw  him,  she  thought, 
"My  life  is  forfeit:  by  some  means  I  must  get  him  into 
pleasant  and  kindly  talk,  and  so  soften  his  heart  and  save 
my  life."  Beginning  a  friendly  talk  with  him  from  some 
distance,  she  approached  and  spoke  the  first  stanza : 

How  fares  it  with  you,  uncle  ?  and  is  it  well  with  you  ? 

My  mother  sends  her  kind  regards :   and  I'm  your  friend  so  true. 

Hearing  her,  the  panther  thought,  "This  baggage 
would  beguile  me  by  calling  me  '  uncle ' :  she  does  not 
know  how  hard  I  am";  and  so  he  spoke  the  second 
stanza : 

You've  trod  upon  my  tail,  miss  goat,  and  done  me  injury: 
And  think  you  by  saying  '  Uncle '  that  you  can  go  scot-free  ? 

When  she  heard  him,  she  said,  "  O  uncle,  don't  talk  in 
that  way,"  and  spoke  the  third  stanza : 

I  faced  you  as  I  came,  good  Sir,  you  face  me  as  you  sit: 
Your  tail  is  all  behind  you:  how  could  I  tread  on  it? 

He  answered,  "AYhat  do  you  say,  she-goat?  is  there 
any  place  where  my  tail  might  not  be  ? "  and  so  he  spoke 
the  fourth  stanza : 

As  far  as  four  great  continents  with  seas  and  mountains  spread, 
My  tail  extends :  how  could  you  fail  on  such  a  tail  to  tread  ? 

The  she-goat,  when  she  heard  this,  thought,  "This 
wicked  one  is  not  attracted  by  soft  words :  I  will  answer 
him  as  an  enemy,"  and  so  she  spoke  the  fifth  stanza : 

Your  villain's  tail  is  long,  I  know,  for  I  had  warning  fair: 
Parents  and  brothers  told  me  so:  but  I  flew  through  the  air. 


Then  he  said,  "  I  know  you  came  through  the  air :  but 
as  you  came,  you  spoilt  my  food  by  your  way  of  coming," 
and  so  he  spoke  the  sixth  stanza : 

The  sight  of  you,  miss  goat,  on  high,  the  air  a-flying  through, 
Frightened  a  herd  of  deer:  and  so  my  food  was  spoilt  by  you. 

Hearing  this,  the  goat  in  fear  of  death  could  bring  no 
other  excuse,  but  cried  out,  "  Uncle,  do  not  commit  such 
cruelty;  spare  my  life."  But  though  she  cried  out,  the 
other  seized  her  by  the  shoulder,  killed  her  and  ate  her. 

The  ascetic  saw  the  whole  matter  of  the  two  animals. 

Tib.  T.  xxix.  and  p.  Ixv,  where  Ralston  compares  the  fable  of'  The  Wolf  and  the 
Lamb  (Phaedr.  i.  1),  Jacobs  62.  The  introductory  tale  has  more  resemblance  to  that 
of  the  third  goat  in  The  Three  Billygoats  Gruff,  Dasent's  Popular  Tales  front  the 
Norse,  xxxvu. 


Once  upon  a  time  many  myriads  of  parrots  lived  in 
the  Himalaya  country  on  the  banks  of  the  Ganges  in  a 
grove  of  fig-trees.  A  king  of  the  parrots  there,  when  the 
fruit  of  the  tree  in  which  he  dwelt  had  come  to  an  end, 
ate  whatever  was  left,  whether  shoot  or  leaf  or  bark  or 
rind,  and  drank  of  water  from  the  Ganges,  and  being  very 
happy  and  contented  he  kept  where  he  was.  Owing  to 
his  happy  and  contented  state  the  abode  of  Sakka  was 
shaken.  Sakka  reflecting  on  the  cause  saw  the  parrot, 
and  to  test  his  virtue,  by  his  supernatural  power  he 
withered  up  the  tree,  which  became  a  mere  stump  per- 
forated with  holes,  and  stood  to  be  buffeted  by  every 
blast  of  wind,  and  from  the  holes  dust  came  out.  The 
parrot  king  ate  this  dust  and  drank  the  water  of  the 
Ganges,  and  going  nowhere  else  sat  perched  on  the  top 
of  the  fig-stump,  recking  nought  of  wind  and  sun. 



Sakka  noticed  how  very  contented  the  parrot  was,  and 
said,  "  After  hearing-  him  speak  of  the  virtue  of  friendship, 
I  will  come  and  give  him  his  choice  of  a  boon,  and  cause 
the  fig-tree  to  bear  ambrosial  fruit."  So  he  took  the  form 
of  a  royal  goose,  and  preceded  by  Suja1  in  the  shape  of 
an  A  sura  nymph,  he  went  to  the  grove  of  fig-trees,  and 
perching  on  the  bough  of  a  tree  close  by,  he  entered  into 
conversation  with  the  parrot  and  spoke  the  first  stanza : 

Wherever  fruitful  trees  abound, 
A  flock  of  hungry  birds  is  found: 
But  should  the  trees  all  withered  be, 
Away  at  once  the  birds  will  flee. 

And  after  these  words,  to  drive  the  parrot  thence,  he 
spoke  the  second  stanza : 

Haste  thee,  Sir  Redbeak,  to  be  gone; 
Why  dost  thou  sit  and  dream  alone? 
Come  tell  me,  prithee,  bird  of  spring, 
To  this  dead  stump  why  dost  thou  cling? 

Then  the  parrot  said,  "O  goose,  from  a  feeling  of 
gratitude,  I  forsake  not  this  tree,"  and  he  repeated  two 
stanzas : 

They  who  have  been  close  friends  from  youth, 
Mindful  of  goodness  and  of  truth, 
In  life  and  death,  in  weal  and  wroe 
The  claims  of  friendship  ne'er  forego. 

I  too  would  fain  be  kind  and  good 
To  one  that  long  my  friend  has  stood; 
I  wish  to  live,  but  have  no  heart 
From  this  old  tree,  though  dead,  to  part. 

Sakka  on  hearing  what  he  said  was  delighted,  and 
praising  him  wished  to  offer  him  a  choice,  and  uttered 
two  stanzas: 

1  Sakka's  wife. 


I  know  thy  friendship  and  thy  grateful  love, 
Virtues  that  wise  men  surely  must  approve. 
I  offer  thee  whate'er  thou  wilt  for  choice; 
Parrot,  what  boon  would  most  thy  heart  rejoice? 

On  hearing  this,  the  king  parrot  making  his  choice 
spoke  the  seventh  stanza: 

If  thou,  0  goose,  what  most  I  crave  wouldst  give, 
Grant  that  the  tree  I  love,  again  may  live. 
Let  it  once  more  with  its  old  vigour  shoot, 
Gather  fresh  sweetness  and  bear  goodly  fruit. 

Then  Sakka,  granting  the  boon,  spoke  the  eighth 
stanza : 

Lo!  friend,  a  fruitful  and  right  noble  tree, 
Well  fitted  for  thy  dwelling-place  to  be. 
Let  it  once  more  with  its  old  vigour  shoot, 
Gather  fresh  sweetness  and  bear  goodly  fruit. 

With  these  words  Sakka  quitted  his  present  form,  and 
manifesting  the  supernatural  power  of  himself  and  Suja, 
he  took  up  water  from  the  Ganges  in  his  hand  and 
dashed  it  against  the  fig-tree  stump.  Straightway  the 
tree  rose  up  rich  in  branch  and  stem,  and  with  honey- 
sweet  fruit,  and  stood  a  charming  sight,  like  unto  the 
bare  Jewel-Mount.  The  parrot  king  on  seeing  it  was 
highly  pleased,  and  singing  the  praises  of  Sakka  he  spoke 
the  ninth  stanza : 

May  Sakka  and  all  loved  by  Sakka  blessed  be, 
As  I  to-day  am  blest  this  goodly  sight  to  see ! 

Sakka,  after  granting  the  parrot  his  choice,  and  causing 
the  fig-tree  to  bear  ambrosial  fruit,  returned  with  Sujata 
to  his  own  abode. 

Mbh.  xin.  ch.  5.     There  is  no  direct  relationship  between  this  and  the  jataka, 
and  no  connexion  between  the  verses  (Franke). 


Once  upon  a  time  in  the  reign  of  Brahmadatta,  king 
of  Benares,  his  queen-consort  after  falling  into  sin  was 
questioned  by  the  king,  and  taking  an  oath  she  said,  "  If 
I  have  sinned  against  you,  I  shall  become  a  female 
Yakkha  with  a  face  like  a  horse."  After  her  death  she 
became  a  horse-faced  Yakkha  and  dwelt  in  a  rock-cave 
in  a  vast  forest  at  the  foot  of  a  mountain,  and  used  to 
catch  and  devour  the  men  that  frequented  the  road 
leading  from  the  East  to  the  Western  border.  After 
serving  Vessavana1  three  years,  it  is  said,  she  got  leave 
to  eat  people  in  a  certain  space,  thirty  leagues  long  by 
five  leagues  broad.  Now  one  day  a  rich,  wealthy,  hand- 
some brahmin,  accompanied  by  a  large  suite,  ascended 
that  road.  The  Yakkha,  on  seeing  him,  with  a  loud  neigh 
rushed  upon  him,  and  his  attendants  all  fled.  With  the 
speed  of  the  wind  she  seized  the  brahmin  and  threw  him 
on  her  back,  and  in  entering  the  cave,  through  coming 
into  contact  with  the  man,  under  the  influence  of  passion 
she  conceived  an  affection  for  him,  and  instead  of  devour- 
ing him  she  made  him  her  husband,  and  they  lived 
harmoniously  together.  And  thenceforth  the  Yakkha 
whenever  she  captured  men,  also  took  their  clothes  and 
rice  and  oil  and  the  like,  and  serving  him  with  various 
dainty  food  she  herself  would  eat  man's  flesh.  And  when- 
ever she  went  away,  for  fear  of  his  escaping,  she  closed  the 
mouth  of  the  cave  with  a  huge  stone  before  leaving.  And 
while  they  were  thus  living  amicably  together,  the  Bodhi- 
satta  passing  from  his  former  existence  was  conceived  in 

1  The  lord  of  Yakkhas. 


the  womb  of  the  Yakkha  by  the  brahmin.  After  ten 
months  she  gave  birth  to  a  son,  and  filled  with  love  for 
the  brahmin  and  her  child,  she  fed  them  both.  By  and 
by  when  the  boy  was  grown  up,  she  put  him  also  inside  the 
cave  with  his  father,  and  closed  the  door.  Now  one  day 
the  Bodhisatta  knowing  she  had  gone  away  removed  the 
stone  and  let  his  father  out.  And  when  she  asked  on  her 
return  who  had  removed  the  stone,  he  said,  "  I  did,  mother: 
we  cannot  sit  in  darkness."  And  through  love  for  her 
child  she  did  not  say  another  word.  Now  one  day  the 
Bodhisatta  asked  his  father,  saying,  "Dear  father,  your 
mouth  is  different  from  my  mother's ;  what  is  the  reason  ? " 
"My  son,  your  mother  is  a  Yakkha  and  lives  on  man's 
flesh,  but  you  and  I  are  men."  "If  so,  why  do  we  live 
here?  Come,  we  will  go  to  the  haunts  of  men."  "My 
dear  boy,  if  we  shall  try  to  escape,  your  mother  will  kill 
us  both."  The  Bodhisatta  reassured  his  father  and  said, 
"  Do  not  be  afraid,  dear  father ;  that  you  shall  return  to 
the  haunts  of  men  shall  be  my  charge."  And  next  day 
when  his  mother  had  gone  away,  he  took  his  father  and 
fled.  When  the  Yakkha  returned  and  missed  them,  she 
rushed  forward  with  the  swiftness  of  the  wind  and  caught 
them  and  said,  "O  brahmin,  why  do  you  run  away?  Is 
there  anything  that  you  want  here  ? "  "  My  dear,"  he  said, 
"  do  not  be  angry  with  me.  Your  son  carried  me  off  with 
him."  And  without  another  word,  owing  to  her  love  for 
her  child,  she  comforted  them  and  making  for  her  place 
of  abode  she  brought  them  back  after  a  flight  of  some 
days.  The  Bodhisatta  thought,  "My  mother  must  have 
a  limited  sphere  of  action.  Suppose  I  were  to  ask  her  the 
limits  of  space  over  which  her  authority  extends.  Then 
I  will  escape  by  going  beyond  this."  So  one  day  sitting 
respectfully  near  his  mother  he  said,  "  My  dear,  that  which 


belongs  to  a  mother  comes  to  the  children ;  tell  me  now 
what  is  the  boundary  of  our  ground."  She  told  him  all 
the  landmarks,  mountains  and  such  like  in  all  directions, 
and  pointed  out  to  her  son  the  space,  thirty  leagues  long 
and  five  leagues  broad,  and  said,  "Consider  it  to  be  so 
much,  my  son."  After  the  lapse  of  two  or  three  days, 
when  his  mother  had  gone  to  the  forest,  he  put  his  father 
on  his  shoulder  and  rushing  on  with  the  swiftness  of  the 
wind,  by  the  hint  given  him  by  his  mother,  he  reached  the 
bank  of  the  river  that  was  the  limit.  The  mother  too, 
when  on  her  return  she  missed  them,  pursued  after  them. 
The  Bodhisatta  carried  his  father  into  the  middle  of  the 
river,  and  she  came  and  stood  on  the  river  bank,  and 
when  she  saw  that  they  had  passed  beyond  the  limits  of 
her  sphere,  she  stopped  where  she  was,  and  cried,  "My 
dear  child,  come  here  with  your  father.  What  is  my 
offence  ?  In  what  respect  do  not  things  go  well  with  you  ? 
Come  back,  my  lord."  Thus  did  she  beseech  her  child 
and  husband.  So  the  brahmin  crossed  the  river.  She 
prayed  to  her  child  also,  and  said,  "  Dear  son,  do  not  act 
after  this  sort :  come  back  again."  "Mother,  we  are  men: 
you  are  a  Yakkha.  We  cannot  always  abide  with  you." 
"And  will  you  not  return?"  "No,  mother."  "Then  if 
you  refuse  to  return — as  it  is  painful  to  live  in  the  world 
of  men,  and  they  who  know  not  any  craft  cannot  live — I 
am  skilled  in  the  lore  of  a  wishing-jewel :  by  its  power, 
one  can  follow  after  the  lapse  of  twelve  years  in  the  steps 
of  those  that  have  gone  away.  This  will  prove  a  livelihood 
to  you.  Take,  my  child,  this  invaluable  charm."  And 
though  overcome  by  such  great  sorrow,  through  love  of 
her  child,  she  gave  him  the  charm.  The  Bodhisatta,  still 
standing  in  the  river,  folded  his  hands  tortoise-wise  and 
took  the  charm,  and  saluting  his  mother  cried,  "Good-bye, 


mother."  The  Yakkha  said,  "If  you  do  not  return,  my 
son,  I  cannot  live,"  and  she  smote  upon  her  breast,  and 
straightway  in  sorrow  for  her  son  her  heart  was  broken 
and  she  fell  down  dead  on  the  spot.  The  Bodhisatta, 
when  he  knew  his  mother  was  dead,  called  to  his  father 
and  went  and  made  a  funeral  pile  and  burned  her  body. 
After  extinguishing  the  flames,  he  made  offerings  of 
various  coloured  flowers,  and  with  weeping  and  lamenta- 
tion returned  with  his  father  to  Benares. 

It  was  told  the  king,  "A  youth  skilled  in  tracking 
footsteps  is  standing  at  the  door."  And  when  the  king 
bade  him  enter,  he  came  in  and  saluted  the  king.  "My 
friend,"  he  said,  "do  you  know  any  craft?"  "My  lord, 
following  on  the  track  of  one  who  has  stolen  any  pro- 
perty twelve  years  ago,  I  can  catch  him."  "Then  enter 
my  service,"  said  the  king.  "I  will  serve  you  for  a 
thousand  pieces  of  money  daily."  "  Very  well,  friend,  you 
shall  serve  me."  And  the  king  had  him  paid  a  thousand 
pieces  of  money  daily.  Now  one  day  the  family  priest 
said  to  the  king,  "My  lord,  because  this  youth  does 
nothing  by  the  power  of  his  art,  we  do  not  know  whether 
he  has  any  skill  or  not :  we  will  now  test  him."  The  king 
readily  agreed,  and  the  pair  gave  notice  to  the  keepers  of 
the  various  treasures,  and  taking  the  most  valuable  jewels 
descended  from  the  terrace,  and  after  groping  their  way 
three  times  round  the  palace,  they  placed  a  ladder  on  the 
top  of  the  wall  and  by  means  of  it  descended  to  the  out- 
side. Then  they  entered  the  Hall  of  Justice,  and  after 
sitting  there  they  returned  and  again  placing  the  ladder 
on  the  wall  descended  into  the  harem.  Coming  to  the 
edge  of  a  tank  they  thrice  marched  rightwise  round  it,  and 
then  dropped  their  treasure  in  the  tank,  and  climbed 
back  to  the  terrace.  Next  day  there  was  a  great  outcry 



and  men  said,  "  Treasure  has  been  stolen  from  the  palace." 
The  king  pretending  ignorance  summoned  the  Bodhisatta 
and  said,  "  Friend,  much  valuable  treasure  has  been  stolen 
from  the  palace :  we  must  trace  it."  "  My  lord,  for  one 
who  is  able  to  follow  the  traces  of  robbers  and  recover 
treasure  stolen  twelve  years  ago,  there  is  nothing  mar- 
vellous in  his  recovering  stolen  property  after  a  single  day 
and  night.  I  will  recover  it ;  do  not  be  troubled."  "  Then 
recover  it,  friend."  "Very  well,  my  lord,"  he  said,  and 
went  and  saluting  his  mother's  memory  he  repeated  the 
spell,  still  standing  on  the  terrace,  and  said,  "  My  lord,  the 
steps  of  two  thieves  are  to  be  seen."  And  following  in 
the  steps  of  the  king  and  the  priest  he  entered  the  royal 
closet,  and  issuing  thence  he  descended  from  the  terrace, 
and  after  thrice  making  a  circuit  of  the  palace  he  drew 
near  the  wall.  Standing  on  it  he  said,  "  My  lord,  starting 
in  this  place  from  the  wall  I  see  footsteps  in  the  air :  bring 
me  a  ladder."  And  having  had  a  ladder  placed  for  him 
against  the  Avail,  he  descended  by  it,  and  still  following  in 
their  track  he  came  to  the  Hall  of  Justice.  Then  return- 
ing to  the  palace  he  had  the  ladder  planted  against  the 
wall,  and  descending  by  it  he  came  to  the  tank.  Going 
thrice  rightwise  round  it  he  said,  "My  lord,  the  thieves 
went  down  into  this  tank,"  and  taking  out  the  treasure,  as 
if  he  had  deposited  it  there  himself,  he  gave  it  to  the  king 
and  said,  "My  lord,  these  two  thieves  are  men  of  dis- 
tinction: by  this  way  they  climbed  up  into  the  palace." 
The  people  snapped  their  fingers  in  a  high  state  of 
delight,  and  there  was  a  great  waving  of  cloths.  The 
king  thought,  "  This  youth,  methinks,  by  following  in  their 
steps  knows  the  place  where  the  thieves  put  the  treasure, 
but  the  thieves  he  cannot  catch."  Then  he  said,  "  You  at 
once  brought  us  the  property  carried  off  by  the  thieves, 


but  will  you  be  able  to  catch  the  thieves  and  bring  them 
to  us  ? "  "  My  lord,  the  thieves  are  here :  they  are  not  far 
off."  "Who  are  they?"  "Great  king,  let  any  one  that 
likes  be  the  thief.  From  the  time  you  recovered  your 
treasure,  why  should  you  want  the  thieves  ?  Do  not  ask 
about  that."  "  Friend,  I  pay  you  daily  a  thousand  pieces  of 
money :  bring  the  thieves  to  me."  "  Sire,  when  the  treasure 
is  recovered,  what  need  of  the  thieves?"  "It  is  better, 
friend,  for  us  to  catch  the  thieves  than  to  recover  the 
treasure."  "  Then,  sire,  I  will  not  tell  you,  '  So  and  so  are 
the  thieves,'  but  I  will  tell  you  a  thing  that  happened  long 
ago.  If  you  are  wise,  you  will  know  what  it  means."  And 
herewith  he  told  an  old  tale. 

Once  upon  a  time,  sire,  a  certain  dancer  named  Patala 
lived  not  far  from  Benares,  in  a  village  on  the  river's 
bank.  One  day  he  went  into  Benares  with  his  wife  and 
after  gaining  money  by  his  singing  and  dancing,  at  the 
end  of  the  fete  he  procured  some  rice  and  strong  drink. 
On  his  way  to  his  own  village  he  came  to  the  bank  of  the 
river,  and  sat  down  watching  the  freshly  flowing  stream, 
to  drink  his  strong  drink.  When  he  was  drunk  and 
unconscious  of  his  weakness,  he  said,  "I  will  fasten  my 
big  lute  about  my  neck  and  go  down  into  the  river." 
And  he  took  his  wife  by  the  hand  and  went  down  into 
the  river.  The  water  entered  into  the  holes  of  the  lute, 
and  then  the  weight  of  his  lute  made  him  begin  to  sink. 
But  when  his  wife  saw  he  was  sinking,  she  let  go  of  him 
and  went  up  out  of  the  river  and  stood  upon  the  bank. 
The  dancer  Patala  now  rises  and  now  sinks,  and  his  belly 
became  swollen  from  swallowing  the  water.  So  his  wife 
thought,  "My  husband  will  now  die:  I  will  beg  of  him 
one  song,  and  by  singing  this  in  the  midst  of  the  people, 
I  shall  earn  my  living."  And  saying,  "My  lord,  you  are 


sinking  in  the  water:  give  me  just  one  song,  and  I  will 
earn  my  living  by  it,"  she  spoke  this  stanza: 

0  Patala,  by  Ganges  swept  away, 
Famous  iu  dance  and  skilled  in  roundelay, 
Patala,  all  hail!  as  thou  art  borne  along, 
Sing  me,  I  pray,  some  little  snatch  of  song. 

Then  the  dancer  Patala  said,  "My  dear,  how  shall 
I  give  you  a  little  song?  The  water  that  has  been  the 
salvation  of  the  people  is  killing  me,"  and  he  spoke  a 
stanza : 

Wherewith  are  sprinkled  fainting  souls  in  pain, 

1  straight  am  killed.    My  refuge  proved  my  bane. 

The  Bodhisatta  in  explanation  of  this  stanza  said: 
"  Sire,  even  as  water  is  the  refuge  of  the  people,  so  also 
is  it  with  kings.  If  danger  arises  from  them,  who  shall 
avert  that  danger  ?  This,  sire,  is  a  secret  matter.  I  have 
told  a  story  intelligible  to  the  wise:  understand  it,  sire." 
"  Friend,  I  understand  not  a  hidden  story  like  this.  Catch 
the  thieves  and  bring  them  to  me."  Then  the  Bodhisatta 
said,  "  Hear  then  this,  sire,  and  understand."  And  he  told 
yet  another  tale. 

"  My  lord,  formerly  in  a  village  outside  the  city  gates 
of  Benares,  a  potter  used  to  fetch  clay  for  his  pottery, 
and  constantly  getting  it  in  the  same  place  he  dug  a  deep 
pit  inside  a  mountain-cave.  Now  one  day  while  he  was 
getting  the  clay,  an  unseasonable  storm-cloud  sprang  up, 
and  let  fall  a  heavy  rain,  and  the  flood  overwhelmed  and 
threw  down  the  side  of  the  pit,  and  the  man's  head  was 
broken  by  it.  Loudly  lamenting  he  spoke  this  stanza : 

That  by  which  seeds  do  grow,  man  to  sustain, 
Has  crushed  my  head.    My  refuge  proved  my  bane. 

"  For  even  as  the  mighty  earth,  sire,  which  is  the  refuge 
of  the  people,  broke  the  potter's  head,  even  so  when  a 



king,  who  like  the  mighty  earth  is  the  refuge  of  the  whole 
world,  rises  up  and  plays  the  thief,  who  shall  avert  the 
danger  ?  Can  you,  sire,  recognise  the  thief  hidden  under 
the  guise  of  this  story  ? "  "  Friend,  we  do  not  want  any 
hidden  meaning.  Say,  '  Here  is  the  thief,'  and  catch  him 
and  hand  him  over  to  me." 

Still  shielding  the  king  and  without  saying  in  words, 
"Thou  art  the  thief,"  he  told  yet  another  story. 

In  this  very  city,  sire,  a  certain  man's  house  was  on  fire. 
He  ordered  another  man  to  go  into  the  house  and  bring 
out  his  property.  When  this  man  had  entered  the  house 
and  was  bringing  out  his  goods,  the  door  was  shut.  Blinded 
with  smoke  and  unable  to  find  his  way  out  and  tormented 


by  the  rising  flame,  he  remained  inside  lamenting,  and 
spoke  this  stanza: 

That  which  destroys  the  cold,  and  parches  grain, 
Consumes  my  limbs.    My  refuge  proves  my  bane. 

"A  man,  O  king,  who  like  fire  was  the  refuge  of  the 
people,  stole  the  bundle  of  jewels.  Do  not  ask  me  about 
the  thief."  "Friend,  just  bring  me  the  thief."  Without 
telling  the  king  that  he  was  a  thief,  he  told  yet  another 

Once,  sire,  in  this  very  city  a  man  ate  to  excess  and 
was  unable  to  digest  his  food.  Maddened  with  pain  and 
lamenting  he  spoke  this  stanza : 

Food  on  which  countless  brahmins  life  sustain 
Killed  me  outright.    My  refuge  proved  my  bane. 

"One,  who  like  rice,  sire,  was  the  refuge  of  the  people, 
stole  the  property.  When  that  is  recovered,  why  ask 
about  the  thief?"  "Friend,  if  you  can,  bring  me  the  thief." 
To  make  the  king  comprehend,  he  told  yet  another  story. 

Formerly,  sire,  in  this  very  city  a  wind  arose  and  broke 
a  certain  man's  limbs.  Lamenting  he  spoke  this  stanza : 


Wind  that  in  June  wise  men  by  prayer  would  gain, 
My  limbs  doth  break.    My  refuge  proved  my  baue. 

"  Thus,  sire,  did  danger  arise  from  his  refuge.  Under- 
stand this  story."  "Friend,  bring  me  the  thief."  To  make 
the  king  understand,  he  told  him  yet  another  story. 

"Once  upon  a  time,  sire,  on  the  side  of  the  Himalayas 
grew  a  tree  with  forked  branches,  the  dwelling-place  of 
countless  birds.  Two  of  its  boughs  rubbed  against  one 
another.  Hence  arose  smoke,  and  sparks  of  fire  were  let 
fall.  On  seeing  this  the  chief  bird  uttered  this  stanza: 

Flame  issues  from  the  tree  where  we  have  laiu-. 
Scatter  ye  birds.    Our  refuge  proves  our  bane. 

"For  just  as,  sire,  the  tree  is  the  refuge  of  birds,  so  is 
the  king  the  refuge  of  his  people.  Should  he  play  the 
thief,  Avho  shall  avert  the  danger?  Take  note  of  this,  sire." 
"Friend,  only  bring  me  the  thief."  Then  he  told  the  king 
yet  another  story. 

In  a  village  of  Benares,  sire,  on  the  western  side  of  a 
gentleman's  house  was  a  river  full  of  savage  crocodiles, 
and  in  this  family  was  an  only  son,  who  on  the  death  of 
his  father  watched  over  his  mother.  His  mother  against 
his  will  brought  home  a  gentleman's  daughter  as  his  wife. 
At  first  she  shewed  affection  for  her  mother-in-law,  but 
afterwards  when  blest  with  numerous  sons  and  daughters 
of  her  own,  she  wished  to  get  rid  of  her.  Her  own  mother 
also  lived  in  the  same  house.  In  her  husband's  presence 
she  found  all  manner  of  fault  with  her  mother-in-law,  to 
prejudice  him  against  her,  saying,  "I  cannot  possibly 
support  your  mother :  you  must  kill  her."  And  when  he 
answered,  "Murder  is  a  serious  matter :  how  am  I  to  kill 
her?''  she  said,  "When  she  has  fallen  asleep,  we  will  take 
her,  bed  and  all,  and  throw  her  into  the  crocodile  river. 
Then  the  crocodiles  will  make  an  end  of  her."  "And 


where  is  your  mother?"  he  said.  "She  sleeps  in  the  same 
room  as  your  mother."  "Then  go  and  set  a  mark  on  the 
bed  on  which  she  lies,  by  fastening  a  rope  on  it."  She  did 
so,  and  said,  "I  have  put  a  mark  on  it."  The  husband 
said,  "Excuse  me  a  moment ;  let  the  people  go  to  bed 
first."  And  he  lay  down  pretending  to  go  to  sleep,  and 
then  went  and  fastened  the  rope  on  his  mother-in-law's 
bed.  Then  he  woke  his  wife,  and  they  went  together 
and  lifting  her  up,  bed  and  all,  threw  her  into  the  river. 
And  the  crocodiles  there  killed  and  ate  her.  Next  day  she 
found  out  what  had  happened  to  her  own  mother,  and 
said,  "My  lord,  my  mother  is  dead,  now  let  us  kill  yours." 
"Very  well  then,"  he  said,  "we  will  make  a  funeral  pile  in 
the  cemetery,  and  cast  her  into  the  fire  and  kill  her."  So 
the  man  and  his  wife  took  her  while  she  was  asleep  to  the 
cemetery,  and  deposited  her  there.  Then  the  husband 
said  to  his  wife,  "Have  you  brought  any  fire?"  "I  have 
forgotten  it,  my  lord."  "Then  go  and  fetch  it."  "I  dare 
not  go,  my  lord,  and  if  you  go,  I  dare  not  stay  here :  we 
will  go  together."  When  they  were  gone,  the  old  woman 
was  awakened  by  the  cold  wind,  and  finding  it  was  a 
cemetery,  she  thought,  "They  wish  to  kill  me:  they  are 
gone  to  fetch  fire.  They  do  not  know  how  strong  I  am." 
And  she  stretched  a  corpse  on  the  bed  and  covered  it 
over  with  a  cloth,  and  ran  away  and  hid  herself  in  a 
mountain-cave  in  that  same  place.  The  husband  and  wife 
brought  the  fire  and  taking  the  corpse  to  be  the  old 
woman  they  burned  it  and  went  away.  A  certain  robber 
had  left  his  bundle  in  this  mountain-cave  and  coming 
back  to  fetch  it  he  saw  the  old  woman  and  thought,  "This 
must  be  a  Yakkha :  my  bundle  is  possessed  by  goblins," 
and  he  fetched  a  devil-doctor.  The  doctor  uttered  a  spell 
and  entered  the  cave.  Then  she  said  to  him,  "I  am 


no  Yakkha ;  come,  we  will  enjoy  this  treasure  together." 
"How  is  this  to  be  believed?"  "Place  your  tongue  on  my 
tongue."  He  did  so,  and  she  bit  a  piece  off  his  tongue 
and  let  it  drop  to  the  ground.  The  devil-doctor  thought, 
"  This  is  certainly  a  Yakkha,"  and  he  cried  aloud  and  fled 
away,  with  the  blood  dripping  from  his  tongue.  Next 
day  the  old  woman  put  on  a  clean  undergarment  and  took 
the  bundle  of  all  sorts  of  jewels  and  went  home.  The 
daughter-in-law  on  seeing  her  asked,  "Where,  mother,  did 
you  get  this?"  "My  dear,  all  that  are  burned  on  a 
wooden  pile  in  this  cemetery  receive  the  same."  "My 
dear  mother,  can  I  too  get  this?"  "If  you  become  like 
me,  you  will."  So  without  saying  a  word  to  her  husband, 
in  her  desire  for  a  lot  of  ornaments  to  wear,  she  went 
there  and  burned  herself.  Her  husband  next  day  missed 
her  and  said,  "My  dear  mother,  at  this  time  of  day  is 
not  your  daughter-in-law  coming?"  Then  she  reproached 
him  saying,  "  Fie !  you  bad  man,  how  do  the  dead  come 
back?"  And  she  uttered  this  stanza: 

A  maiden  fair,  with  wreath  upon  her  head, 

Fragrant  with  sandal  oil,  by  ine  was  led 

A  happy  bride  within  my  home  to  reign : 

She  drove  me  forth.    My  refuge  proved  my  bane. 

"As  the  daughter-in-law,  sire,  is  to  the  mother-in-law, 
so  is  the  king  a  refuge  to  his  people.  If  danger  arises 
thence,  what  can  one  do  ?  take  note  of  this,  sire."  "  Friend, 
I  do  not  understand  the  things  you  tell  me ;  only  bring 
me  the  thief."  He  thought,  "  I  will  shield  the  king,"  and 
he  told  yet  another  story. 

Of  old,  sire,  in  this  very  city  a  man  in  answer  to  his 
prayer  had  a  son.  At  his  birth  the  father  was  full  of  joy 
and  gladness  at  the  thought  of  having  got  a  son,  and 
cherished  him.  When  the  boy  was  grown  up,  he  wedded 


him  to  a  wife,  and  by  and  by  he  himself  grew  old  and 
could  not  undertake  any  work.  So  his  son  said,  "You 
cannot  do  any  work :  you  must  go  from  hence,"  and  he 
drove  him  out  of  the  house.  With  great  difficulty  he 
kept  himself  alive  on  alms,  and  lamenting  he  uttered  this 
stanza : 

He  for  whose  birth  I  longed,  nor  longed  in  vain, 
Drives  me  from  home.    My  refuge  proved  my  bane. 

"  Just  as  an  aged  father,  sire,  ought  to  be  cared  for  by 
an  able-bodied  son,  so  too  ought  all  the  people  to  be 
protected  by  the  king,  and  this  danger  now  present  has 
arisen  from  the  king,  who  is  the  guardian  of  all  men.  Know, 
sire,  from  this  fact  that  the  thief  is  so  and  so."  "  I  do  not 
understand  this,  be  it  fact  or  no  fact :  either  bring  me  the 
thief,  or  you  yourself  must  be  the  thief."  Thus  did  the 
king  again  and  again  question  the  youth.  So  he  said  to 
him,  "Would  you,  sire,  really  like  the  thief  to  be  caught?" 
"Yes,  friend."  "Then  I  will  proclaim  it  in  the  midst  of 
the  assembly,  So  and  So  is  the  thief,"  "Do  so,  friend." 
On  hearing  his  words  he  thought,  "This  king  does  not 
allow  me  to  shield  him:  I  will  now  catch  the  thief."  And 
when  the  people  had  gathered  together,  he  addressed 
them  and  spoke  these  stanzas: 

Let  town  and  country  folk  assembled  all  give  ear, 

Lo!  water  is  ablaze.    From  safety  cometh  fear. 

The  plundered  realm  may  well  of  king  and  priest  complain; 

Henceforth  protect  yourselves.    Tour  refuge  proves  your  bane. 

When  they  heard  what  he  said,  the  people  thought, 
"The  king,  though  he  ought  to  have  protected  others, 
threw  the  blame  on  another.  After  he  had  with  his  own 
hands  placed  his  treasure  in  the  tank,  he  went  about 
looking  for  the  thief.  That  he  may  not  in  future  go  on 
playing  the  part  of  a  thief,  we  will  kill  this  wicked  king." 

F.   &  T.  20 


So  they  rose  up  with  sticks  and  clubs  in  their  hands,  and 
then  and  there  beat  the  king  and  the  priest  till  they  died. 
But  they  sprinkled  the  Bodhisatta  with  the  ceremonial 
sprinkling  and  set  him  on  the  throne. 

The  story  of  the  female  yakkha  forms  an  episode  in  Tib.  T.  xn.  and  the  beginning 
of  Example  xix.  in  Sind.  Of.  Clouston,  i.  215  ff.,  Fairy  hinds.  For  the  two  tales  of 
filial  ingratitude,  pp.  302 — 305,  cf.  the  references  on  p.  314. 


Once  upon  a  time  in  the  reign  of  Brahmadatta,  king 
of  Benares,  many  hundreds  of  wild  goats  dwelt  in  a 
mountain-cave  in  a  wooded  district  on  the  slopes  of  the 
Himalayas.  Not  far  from  their  place  of  abode  a  jackal 
named  Putimamsa  with  his  wife  Yen!  lived  in  a  cave. 

•  • 

One  day  as  he  was  ranging  about  with  his  wife,  he  spied 
those  goats  and  thought,  "I  must  find  some  means  to 
eat  the  flesh  of  these  goats,''  and  by  some  device  he  killed 
a  single  goat.  Both  he  and  his  wife  by  feeding  on  goat's 
flesh  waxed  strong  and  gross  of  body.  Gradually  the 
goats  were  destroyed.  Amongst  them  was  a  wise  she-goat 
named  Melamata.  The  jackal  though  skilful  in  devices 
could  not  kill  her,  and  taking  counsel  with  his  wife  he 
said,  "My  dear,  all  the  goats  have  died  out.  We  must 
devise  how  to  eat  this  she-goat.  Now  here  is  my  plan. 
You  are  to  go  by  yourself,  and  become  friendly  with  her, 
and  when  confidence  has  sprung  up  between  you,  I  will 
lie  down  and  pretend  to  be  dead.  Then  you  are  to  draw 
nigh  to  the  goat  and  say,  '  My  dear,  my  husband  is  dead 
and  I  am  desolate ;  except  you  I  have  no  relative :  come, 
let  us  weep  and  lament,  and  bury  his  body.'  And  with 
these  words  come  and  bring  her  with  you.  Then  I  will 


spring  up  and  kill  her  by  a  bite  in  the  neck."  She  readily 
agreed  and  after  making  friends  with  the  goat,  when  con- 
fidence was  established,  she  addressed  her  in  the  words 
suggested  by  her  husband.  The  goat  replied,  "  My  dear, 
all  my  kinsfolk  have  been  eaten  by  your  husband. 
I  am  afraid;  I  cannot  come."  "Do  not  be  afraid;  what 
harm  can  the  dead  do  you?"  "Your  husband  is  cruelly- 
minded;  I  am  afraid."  But  afterwards  being  repeatedly 
importuned  the  goat  thought,  "He  certainly  must  be 
dead,"  and  consented  to  go  with  her.  But  on  her  way 
there  she  thought,  "Who  knows  what  will  happen?" 
and  being  suspicious  she  made  the  she-jackal  go  in  front, 
keeping  a  sharp  look-out  for  the  jackal.  He  heard  the 
sound  of  their  steps  and  thought,  "  Here  comes  the  goat," 
and  put  up  his  head  and  rolling  his  eyes  looked  about 
him.  The  goat  on  seeing  him  do  this  said,  "  This  wicked 
wretch  wants  to  take  me  in  and  kill  me:  he  lies  there 
making  a  pretence  of  being  dead,"  and  she  turned  about 
and  fled.  When  the  she-jackal  asked  why  she  ran  away, 
the  goat  gave  the  reason  and  spoke  the  first  stanza : 

Why  thus  does  Putiniamsa  stare? 

His  look  misliketh  me: 
Of  such  a  friend  one  should  beware, 

And  far  away  should  flee. 

With  these  words  she  turned  about  and  made  straight 


for  her  own  abode.  And  the  she-jackal  failing  to  stop  her 
was  enraged  with  her,  and  went  to  her  husband  and  sat 
down  lamenting.  Then  the  jackal  rebuking  her  spoke 
the  second  stanza : 

Yen!,  my  wife,  has  lost  her  wit, 
She  boasts  of  friends  that  she  has  made; 

Left  in  the  lurch  she  can  but  sit 
And  grieve,  by  Mela's  art  betrayed. 



On  hearing  this  the  she-jackal  spoke  the  third  stanza : 

You  too,  my  lord,  were  hardly  wise, 
And,  witless  creature,  raised  your  head, 

Staring1  about  with  open  eyes, 
Though  feigning  to  be  dead. 

But  the  she-jackal  comforted  Putimamsa  and  said, 
"  My  lord,  do  not  vex  yourself,  I  will  find  a  way  to  bring 
her  here  again,  and  when  she  comes,  be  on  your  guard 
and  catch  her."  Then  .she  sought  the  goat  and  said, 
"  My  friend,  your  coming  proved  of  service  to  us ;  for  as 
soon  as  you  appeared,  my  lord  recovered  consciousness, 
and  he  is  now  alive.  Come  and  have  friendly  speech  with 
him,"  and  so  saying  she  spoke  the  fifth1  stanza: 

Our  former  friendship,  goat,  once  more  revive, 
And  come  with  well-lilled  bowl  to  us,  I  pray, 

My  lord  I  took  for  dead  is  still  alive, 
With  kindly  greeting  visit  him  to-day. 

The  goat  thought,  "This  wicked  wretch  wants  to  take 
me  in.  I  must  not  act  like  an  open  foe ;  I  will  find  means 
to  deceive  her,"  and  she  spoke  the  sixth  stanza : 

Our  former  friendship  to  revive, 
A  well-filled  bowl  I  gladly  give: 
With  a  big  escort  I  shall  come; 
To  feast  us  well,  go  hasten  home. 

Then  the  she-jackal  enquired  about  her  followers,  and 
spoke  the  seventh  stanza : 

What  kind  of  escort  will  you  bring, 
That  I  am  bid  to  feast  you  well? 

The  names  of  all  remembering 
To  us,  I  pray  you,  truly  tell. 

The  goat  spoke  the  eighth  stanza  and  said: 

1  A  stanza  not  belonging  to  the  Story  of  the  Past  is  omitted. 


Hounds1  Grey  and  Tan,  and  Four-eyed  too, 
With  Janibuk  form  my  escort  true: 
GrO  hurry  home,  and  quick  prepare: 
For  all  abundance  of  good  fare. 

"  Each  of  these,"  she  added,  "  is  accompanied  by  five 
hundred  dogs:  so  I  shall  appear  with  a  guard  of  two 
thousand  dogs.  If  they  should  not  find  food,  they  will 
kill  and  eat  you  and  your  mate."  On  hearing  this  the 
she-jackal  was  so  frightened  that  she  thought,  "  I  have  had 
quite  enough  of  her  coining  to  us ;  I  will  find  means  to 
stop  her  from  coming,"  and  she  spoke  the  ninth  stanza: 

Don't  leave  your  house,  or  else  I  fear 
Your  goods  will  all  soon  disappear: 
I'll  take  your  greeting  to  my  lord; 
Don't  stir:   nay,  not  another  word! 

With  these  words  she  ran  in  great  haste,  as  for  her  life, 
and  taking  her  lord  with  her,  fled  away.  And  they  never 
durst  come  back  to  that  spot. 

This  jataka  is  of  the  same  type  as  P.  iv.  2,  The  Ass  without  Heart  and  Ears,  in 
which  a  jackal  twice  tempts  an  ass  into  the  presence  of  a  sick  lion,  who  finally  kills 
it.  Some  such  fable  as  this  appears  to  have  been  the  basis  of  the  jataka.  The  moral 
given  in  both  cases  is,  "  keep  guard  over  the  avenues  of  the  senses." 


Once  upon  a  time,  when  Brahmadatta  was  king  of 
Benares,  there  was  in  a  family  of  a  certain  village  of  Kasi 
an  only  son  named  Vasitthaka.  This  man  supported  his 
parents,  and  after  his  mother's  death,  he  supported  his 
father  as  has  been  described  in  the  introduction2.  But 

1  Maliya  and  Pingiya  probably  refer  to  the  colour  of  the  dogs;  Caturaksha,  'four- 
eyed,'  is  one  of  Yama's  dogs  in  the  Rigveda  x.  14,  10 ;  Jambuka  is  a  spirit  in  the  train 
of  Skanda. 

2  In  the  introductory  story  the  father  provides  his  son  with  a  wife,  who  pretends 
to  be  fond  of  her  father-in-law,  but  sets  him  at  variance  with  her  husband. 


there  is  this  difference.  When  the  woman  said,  "Look 
there !  that  is  your  father's  doing !  I  am  constantly 
begging  him  not  to  do  this  and  that,  and  he  only  gets 
angry ! "  she  went  on,  "  My  lord,  your  father  is  fierce  and 
harsh,  for  ever  picking  quarrels.  A  decrepit  old  man 
like  that,  tormented  with  disease,  is  bound  to  die  soon ; 
and  I  can't  live  in  the  same  house  with  him.  He  will  die 
of  himself  before  many  days  are  out ;  well,  take  him  to  a 
cemetery,  and  dig  a  pit,  throw  him  in  and  break  his  head 
with  the  spade;  and  when  he  is  dead,  shovel  the  earth 
upon  him,  and  leave  him  there."  At  last,  by  dint  of  this 
dinning  in  his  ears,  said  he,  "Wife,  to  kill  a  man  is  a 
serious  matter:  how  can  I  do  it?"  "I  will  tell  you  of 
a  way,1'  quoth  she. — "  Say  on,  then."  -"  Well,  my  lord,  at 
break  of  day,  go  to  the  place  where  your  father  sleeps; 
tell  him  very  loud,  that  all  may  hear,  that  a  debtor  of  his 
is  in  a  certain  village,  that  you  went  and  he  would  not  pay 
you,  and  that  if  he  dies  the  man  will  never  pay  at  all ;  and 
say  that  you  will  both  drive  there  together  in  the  morning. 
Then  at  the  appointed  time  get  up,  and  put  the  animals  to 
the  cart,  and  take  him  in  it  to  the  cemetery.  When  you  get 
there,  bury  him  in  a  pit,  make  a  noise  as  if  you  had  been 
robbed,  wound  and  wash  your  head,  and  return."  "Yes, 
that  plan  will  do,"  said  Vasitthaka.  He  agreed  to  her 
proposal,  and  got  the  cart  ready  for  the  journey. 

Now  the  man  had  a  son,  a  lad  of  seven  years,  but  wise 
and  clever.  The  lad  overheard  what  his  mother  said.  "  My 
mother/'  thought  he,  "  is  a  wicked  woman,  and  is  trying  to 
persuade  father  to  murder  his  father.  I  will  prevent  my 
father  from  doing  this  murder."  He  ran  quickly,  and  lay 
down  beside  his  grandsire.  Vasitthaka,  at  the  time  sug- 
gested by  the  wife,  prepared  the  cart.  "  Come,  father,  let 
us  get  that  debt ! "  said  he,  and  placed  his  father  in  the 


cart.  But  the  boy  got  in  first  of  all.  Vasitthaka  could 
not  prevent  him,  so  he  took  him  to  the  cemetery  with  them. 
Then,  placing  his  father  and  his  son  together  in  a  place 
apart,  with  the  cart,  he  got  down,  took  spade  and  basket, 
and  in  a  spot  where  he  was  hidden  from  them  began  to  dig 
a  square  hole.  The  boy  got  down,  and  followed  him,  and 
as  though  ignorant  what  was  afoot,  opened  a  conversation 
by  repeating  the  first  stanza : 

No  bulbs  are  here,  no  herbs  for  cooking1  meet, 
No  catmint,  nor  no  other  plant  to  eat. 
Then  father,  why  this  pit,  if  need  be  none, 
Delve  in  Death's  acre  mid  the  woods  alone? 

Then  his  father  answered   by  repeating   the   second 

stanza : 

Thy  grandsire,  son,  is  very  weak  and  old, 
Opprest  by  pain  from  ailments  manifold: 
Him  will  I  bury  in  a  pit  to-day ; 
In  such  a  life  I  could  not  wish  him  stay. 

Hearing  this,  the  boy  answered  by  repeating  a  half- 
stanza  : 

Thou  hast  done  sinfully  in  wishing1  this, 
And  for  the  deed,  a  cruel  deed  it  is. 

With  these  words,  he  caught  the  spade  from  his  father's 
hands,  and  at  no  great  distance  began  to  dig  another  pit. 

His  father  approaching  asked  why  he  dug  that  pit ;  to 
whom  he  made  reply  by  finishing  the  third  stanza : 

I  too,  when  thou  art  aged,  father  mine, 
Will  treat  my  father  as  thou  treatest  thine; 
Following-  the  custom  of  the  family 
Deep  in  a  pit  I  too  will  bury  thee. 

To  this  the  father  replied   by  repeating   the  fourth 

stanza : 

What  a  harsh  saying1  for  a  boy  to  say, 
And  to  upbraid  a  father  in  this  way! 
To  think  that  my  own  son  should  rail  at  me, 
And  to  his  truest  friend  unkind  should  be! 


When  the  father  had  thus  spoken,  the  wise  lad  recited 
three  stanzas,  one  by  way  of  answer,  aiid  two  as  a  solemn 
utterance : 

I  am  uot  harsh,  my  father,  nor  unkind, 
Nay,  I  regard  thee  with  a  friendly  mind: 
But  this  thou  dost,  this  act  of  sin,  thy  son 
Will  have  no  strength  to  undo  again,  once  done. 

Whoso,  Vasittha,  hurts  with  ill  intent 
His  mother  or  his  father,  innocent, 
He,  when  the  body  is  dissolved,  shall  be 
In  hell  for  his  next  life  undoubtedly. 

Whoso  with  meat  and  drink,  Yasittha,  shall 
His  mother  or  his  father  feed  withal, 
He,  when  the  body  is  dissolved,  shall  be 
In  heaven  for  his  next  life  undoubtedly. 

The  father,  after  hearing  his  son  thus  discourse, 
repeated  the  eighth  stanza : 

Thou  art  no  heartless  iugrate,  son,  I  see, 
But  kindly-hearted,  0  my  son,  to  me; 
'Twas  in  obedience  to  thy  mother's  word 
I  thought  to  do  this  horrid  deed  abhorred. 

Said  the  lad,  when  he  heard  this,  "Father,  women, 
when  a  wrong  is  done  and  they  are  not  rebuked,  again 
and  again  commit  sin.  You  must  bend  my  mother,  that 
she  may  never  again  do  such  a  deed  as  this."  And  he 
repeated  the  ninth  stanza: 

That  wife  of  yours,  that  ill-conditioned  dame, 
My  mother,  she  that  brought  me  forth— that  same, 
Let  us  from  out  our  dwelling  far  expel, 
Lest  she  work  other  woe  on  thee  as  well. 

Hearing  the  words  of  his  wise  son,  well  pleased  was 
Yasitthaka,  and  saying,  "  Let  us  go,  my  son ! "  he  seated 
himself  in  the  cart  with  son  and  father  and  set  off. 

Now  the  woman  too,  this  sinner,  was  happy  at  heart ; 


for,  thought  she,  this  ill-luck  is  out  of  the  house  now.  She 
plastered  the  place  with  wret  cowdung,  and  cooked  a  mess 
of  rice  porridge.  But  as  she  sat  watching  the  road  by 
which  they  would  return,  she  espied  them  coming.  "  There 
he  is,  back  with  old  ill-luck  again ! "  thought  she,  much  in 
anger.  "Fie,  good-for-nothing!"  cried  she,  "what,  bring 
back  the  ill-luck  you  took  away  with  you ! "  Yasitthaka 
said  not  a  word,  but  unyoked  the  cart.  Then  said  he, 
"Wretch,  what  is  that  you  say?"  He  gave  her  a  sound 
drubbing,  and  bundled  her  head  over  heels  out  of  doors, 
bidding  her  never  darken  his  door  again.  Then  he  bathed 
his  father  and  his  son,  and  took  a  bath  himself,  and  the 
three  of  them  ate  the  rice  porridge.  The  sinful  woman 
dwelt  for  a  few  days  in  another  house. 

Then  the  son  said  to  his  father :  "  Father,  for  all  this 
my  mother  does  not  understand.  Now  let  us  try  to  vex 
her.  You  give  out  that  in  such  and  such  a  village  lives  a 
niece  of  yours,  who  will  attend  upon  your  father  and  your 
son  and  you;  so  you  will  go  and  fetch  her.  Then  take 
flowers  and  perfumes,  set  off  with  your  cart,  and  ride 
about  the  country  all  day,  returning  in  the  evening."  And 
so  he  did.  The  wromen  in  the  neighbour's  family  told 
his  wife  this ; — •"  Have  you  heard,"  said  they,  "  that  your 
husband  has  gone  to  get  another  wife  in  such  a  place  ? " 
"  Ah,  then  I  am  undone ! "  quoth  she,  "  and  there  is  no 
place  for  me  left ! "  But  she  would  enquire  of  her  son ;  so 
quickly  she  came  to  him,  and  fell  at  his  feet,  crying — "  Save 
thee  I  have  no  other  refuge !  Henceforward  I  will  tend 
your  father  and  grandsire  as  I  would  tend  a  beauteous 
shrine !  Give  me  entrance  into  this  house  once  more ! " 
"  Yes,  mother,"  replied  the  lad,  "  if  you  do  no  more  as  you 
did,  I  will ;  be  in  earnest ! "  and  at  his  father's  coming 
he  repeated  the  tenth  stanza: 


That  wife  of  yours,  that  ill-conditioned  dame, 

My  mother,  she  that  Drought  me  forth, — that  same,— 

Like  a  tamed  elephant,  in  full  control, 

Let  her  return  again,  that  sinful  soul. 

So  said  he  to  his  father,  and  then  went  and  summoned 
his  mother.  She,  being  reconciled  to  her  husband  and  the 
husband's  father,  was  thenceforward  tamed,  and  endued 
with  righteousness,  and  watched  over  her  husband  and  his 
father  and  her  son ;  and  these  two,  steadfastly  following 
their  son's  advice,  gave  alms  and  did  good  deeds,  and 
became  destined  to  join  the  hosts  of  heaven. 

This  is  a  variant  of  a  famous  story,  known  as  the  Hoitsse  Partie.  See  Clouston, 
II.  372  ff.,  The  ungrateful  Son  ;  Jacques  de  Vitry's  Exempla  (Folk  Lore  Soc.,  1890), 
no.  288,  with  bibliographical  note  on  p.  260.  (I)r  Rouse.) 

In  Jat,  417  a  wife  sets  her  husband  and  mother-in-law  at  variance.  The  mother- 
in-law  is  driven  from  home,  but  her  children  are  converted  by  JSakka,  and  take  her 
back.  Cf.  the  two  tales  of  filial  ingratitude  in  The  goblin's  Gift,  pp.  302,  304. 


Once  upon  a  time,  a  king  named  Mahakamsa  reigned 
in  Uttarapatha,  in  the  Kamsa  district,  in  the  city  of 
Asitanjana.  He  had  two  sous,  Kamsa  and  Upakamsa, 
and  one  daughter  named  Devagabbha.  On  her  birthday 
the  brahmins  skilled  in  omens  foretold  of  her:  "A  son 
born  of  this  girl  will  one  day  destroy  the  country  and  the 
lineage  of  Kamsa."  The  king  was  too  fond  of  the  girl  to 
put  her  to  death ;  but  leaving  her  brothers  to  settle  it, 
lived  his  days  out,  and  then  died.  When  he  died  Kamsa 

•/  • 

became  king,  and  Upakamsa  was  viceroy.  They  thought 
that  there  would  be  an  outcry  were  they  to  put  their  sister 
to  death,  so  resolved  to  give  her  in  marriage  to  none,  but 
to  keep  her  husbandless,  and  watch ;  and  they  built  a 
single  round-tower,  for  her  to  live  in. 


Now  she  had  a  serving-woman  named  Nandagopa,  and 
the  woman's  husband,  Andhakavenhu,  was  the  servant  who 
watched  her.  At  that  time  a  king  named  Mahasagara 
reigned  in  Upper  Madhura,  and  he  had  two  sons,  Sagara 
and  Upasagara.  At  their  father's  death,  Sagara  became 
king,  and  Upasagara  was  viceroy.  This  lad  was  Upakamsa's 
friend,  brought  up  together  with  him  and  trained  by  the 
same  teacher.  But  he  intrigued  in  his  brother's  zenana, 
and  being  detected,  ran  away  to  Upakamsa  in  the  Kamsa 
estate.  Upakamsa  introduced  him  to  king  Kamsa,  and 
the  king  had  him  in  great  honour. 

Upasagara  while  waiting  upon  the  king  observed  the 
tower  where  dwelt  Devagabbha ;  and  on  asking  who  lived 
there,  heard  the  story,  and  fell  in  love  with  the  girl.  And 
Devagabbha  one  day  saw  him  as  he  went  with  Upakamsa 
to  wait  upon  the  king.  She  asked  who  that  was;  and 
being  told  by  Nandagopa  that  it  was  Upasagara,  son  of  the 
great  king  Sagara,  she  too  fell  in  love  with  him.  Upasagara 
gave  a  present  to  Nandagopa,  saying,  "Sister,  you  can 
arrange  a  meeting  for  me  with  Devagabbha."  "Easy 
enough,"  quoth  Nandagopa,  and  told  the  girl  about  it. 
She  being  already  in  love  with  him,  agreed  at  once.  One 
night  Nandagopa  arranged  a  tryst,  and  brought  Upasagara 
up  into  the  tower ;  and  there  he  stayed  with  Devagabbha. 
And  by  their  constant  intercourse,  Devagabbha  con- 
ceived. By  and  by  when  the  affair  became  known,  the 
two  brothers  questioned  Nandagopa.  She  made  them 
promise  her  pardon,  and  then  told  the  ins  and  outs  of 
the  matter.  When  they  heard  the  story,  they  thought, 
"  We  cannot  put  our  sister  to  death.  If  she  bears  a 
daughter,  we  will  spare  the  babe  also ;  if  a  son,  we  will 
kill  him."  And  they  gave  Devagabbha  to  Upasagara  to 


When  her  full  time  was  come,  she  gave  birth  to  a 
daughter.  The  brothers  on  hearing  this  were  delighted, 
and  gave  her  the  name  of  the  Lady  Anjana.  And 
they  allotted  to  them  a  village  for  their  estate,  named 
Govaddhamana.  Upasagara  took  Devagabbha  and  lived 
with  her  at  the  village  of  Govaddhamana. 

Devagabbha  was  again  with  child,  and  that  very  day 
Nandagopa  conceived  also.  When  their  time  was  come, 
they  brought  forth  on  the  same  day,  Devagabbha  a  son 
and  Nandagopa  a  daughter.  But  Devagabbha,  in  fear 
that  her  son  might  be  put  to  death,  sent  him  secretly  to 
Nandagopa,  and  received  Nandagopa's  daughter  in  return. 
They  told  the  brothers  of  the  birth.  "  Son  or  daughter  ? " 
they  asked.  "  Daughter,"  was  the  reply.  "  Then  see  that 
it  is  reared,"  said  the  brothers.  In  the  same  way  Deva- 
gabbha bore  ten  sons,  and  Nandagopa  ten  daughters. 
The  sons  lived  with  Nandagopa  and  the  daughters  with 
Devagabbha,  and  not  a  soul  knew  the  secret. 

The  eldest  son  of  Devagabbha  was  named  Vasudeva, 
the  second  Baladeva,  the  third  Candadeva,  the  fourth 
Suriyadeva,  the  fifth  Aggideva,  the  sixth  Varunadeva, 
the  seventh  Ajjuna,  the  eighth  Pajjuna,  the  ninth  Ghata- 
pandita,  the  tenth  Amkura.  They  were  well  known  as 
the  sons  of  Andhakavenhu  the  servitor,  the  Ten  Slave- 

In  course  of  time  they  grew  big,  and  being  very  strong, 
and  withal  fierce  and  ferocious,  they  went  about  plunder- 
ing, they  even  went  so  far  as  to  plunder  a  present  being 
conveyed  to  the  king.  The  people  came  crowding  in  the 
king's  court  yard,  complaining,  "  Andhakavenhu's  sons,  the 
Ten  Brethren,  are  plundering  the  land!"  So  the  king- 
summoned  Andhakavenhu,  and  rebuked  him  for  per- 
mitting his  sons  to  plunder.  In  the  same  way  complaint 


was  made  three  or  four  times,  and  the  king  threatened 
him.  He  being  in  fear  of  his  life  craved  the  boon  of  safety 
from  the  king,  and  told  the  secret,  that  how  these  were  no 
sons  of  his,  but  of  Upasagara.  The  king  was  alarmed. 
"  How  can  we  get  hold  of  them  ? "  he  asked  his  courtiers. 
They  replied,  "Sire,  they  are  wrestlers.  Let  us  hold  a 
wrestling  match  in  the  city,  and  when  they  enter  the  ring 
we  will  catch  them  and  put  them  to  death."  So  they 
sent  for  two  wrestlers,  Canura  and  Mutthika,  and  caused 
proclamation  to  be  made  throughout  the  city  by  beat  of 
drum,  that  on  the  seventh  day  there  would  be  a  wrestling 

The  wrestling  ring  was  prepared  in  front  of  the  king's 
gate ;  there  was  an  enclosure  for  the  games,  the  ring  was 
decked  out  gaily,  the  flags  of  victory  were  ready  tied. 
The  whole  city  was  in  a  whirl ;  line  over  line  rose  the 
seats,  tier  above  tier.  Canura  and  Mutthika  went  down 
into  the  ring,  and  strutted  about,  jumping,  shouting, 
clapping  their  hands.  The  Ten  Brethren  came  too.  On 
their  way  they  plundered  the  washermen's  street,  and  clad 
themselves  in  robes  of  bright  colours,  and  stealing  perfume 
from  the  perfumers'  shops,  and  wreaths  of  flowers  from 
the  florists,  with  their  bodies  all  anointed,  garlands  upon 
their  heads,  earrings  in  their  ears,  they  strutted  into  the 
ring,  jumping,  shouting,  clapping  their  hands. 

At  the  moment,  Canura  was  walking  about  clapping 
his  hands.  Baladeva,  seeing  him,  thought,  "  I  won't  touch 
yon  fellow  with  my  hand ! "  so  catching  up  a  thick  strap 
from  the  elephant  stable,  jumping  and  shouting  he  threw 
it  round  Canura's  belly,  and  joining  the  two  ends  together, 
brought  them  tight,  then  lifting  him  up,  swung  him  round 
over  his  head,  and  dashing  him  on  the  ground  rolled  him 
outside  the  arena.  When  Canura  was  dead,  the  king 


sent  for  Mutthika.  Up  got  Mutthika,  jumping,  shouting, 
clapping  his  hands.  Baladeva  smote  him,  and  crushed 
in  his  eyes ;  and  as  he  cried  out — "  I'm  no  wrestler !  I'm 
no  wrestler  ! "  Baladeva  tied  his  hands  together,  saying, 
"  Wrestler  or  no  wrestler,  it  is  all  one  to  me,"  and  dashing 
him  down  on  the  ground,  killed  him  and  threw  him  outside 
the  arena. 

Mutthika  in  his  death-throes,  uttered  a  prayer — "  May 
I  become  a  goblin,  and  devour  him ! "  And  he  became 
a  goblin,  in  a  forest  called  by  the  name  of  Kalamattiya. 
The  king  said,  "  Take  away  the  Ten  Slave-Brethren."  At 
that  moment,  Yasudeva  threw  a  wheel1,  which  lopped  off 
the  heads  of  the  two  brothers2.  The  crowd,  terrified,  fell 
at  his  feet,  and  besought  him  to  be  their  protector. 

Thus  the  Ten  Brethren,  having  slain  their  two  uncles, 
assumed  the  sovereignty  of  the  city  of  Asitaiijana,  and 
brought  their  parents  thither. 

They  now  set  out,  intending  to  conquer  all  India. 
In  a  while  they  arrived  at  the  city  of  Ayojjha,  the  seat 
of  king  Kajasena.  This  they  encompassed  about,  and 
destroyed  the  jungle  around  it,  breached  the  wall  and 
took  the  king  prisoner,  and  took  the  sovereignty  of  the 
place  into  their  hands.  Thence  they  proceeded  to  Dvara- 
vati.  Now  this  city  had  on  one  side  the  sea  and  on  one 
the  mountains.  They  say  that  the  place  was  goblin- 
haunted.  A  goblin  would  be  stationed  on  the  watch,  who 
seeing  his  enemies,  in  the  shape  of  an  ass  would  bray  as 
the  ass  brays.  At  once,  by  goblin  magic  the  whole  city 
used  to  rise  in  the  air,  and  deposit  itself  on  an  island 
in  the  midst  of  the  sea ;  when  the  foe  was  gone,  it  would 
come  back  and  settle  in  its  own  place  again.  This  time, 

1  A  kind  of  weapon,  especially  the  weapon  of  Vishnu  in  Brahmin  mythology. 

2  I.e.  the  king  and  his  brother. 


as  usual,  no  sooner  the  ass  saw  those  Ten  Brethren 
coming,  than  he  brayed  with  the  bray  of  an  ass.  Up  rose 
the  city  in  the  air,  and  settled  upon  the  island.  No  city 
could  they  see,  and  turned  back ;  then  back  came  the 
city  to  its  own  place  again.  They  returned — again  the 
ass  did  as  before.  The  sovereignty  of  the  city  of  Dvaravati 
they  could  not  take. 

So  they  visited  Kanhadipayana1,  and  said :  "  Sir,  we 
have  failed  to  capture  the  kingdom  of  Dvaravati ;  tell  us 
how  to  do  it."  He  said:  "In  a  ditch,  in  such  a  place, 
is  an  ass  walking  about.  He  brays  when  he  sees  an 
enemy,  and  immediately  the  city  rises  in  the  air.  You 
must  clasp  hold  of  his  feet2,  and  that  is  the  way  to 
accomplish  your  end."  Then  they  took  leave  of  the 
ascetic ;  and  went  all  ten  of  them  to  the  ass,  and  falling 
at  his  feet,  said,  "  Sir,  we  have  no  help  but  thee !  When 
we  come  to  take  the  city,  do  not  bray  ! "  The  ass  replied, 
"  I  cannot  help  braying.  But  if  you  come  first,  and  four 
of  you  bring  great  iron  ploughs,  and  at  the  four  gates 
of  the  city  dig  great  iron  posts  into  the  ground,  and  when 
the  city  begins  to  rise,  if  you  will  fix  on  the  post  a  chain 
of  iron  fastened  to  the  plough,  the  city  will  not  be  able  to 
rise."  They  thanked  him ;  and  he  did  not  utter  a  sound 
while  they  got  ploughs,  and  fixed  the  posts  in  the  ground 
at  the  four  gates  of  the  city,  and  stood  wraiting.  Then  the 
ass  brayed,  the  city  began  to  rise,  but  those  who  stood  at 
the  four  gates  with  the  four  ploughs,  having  fixed  to  the 
posts  iron  chains  which  were  fastened  to  the  ploughs,  the 
city  could  not  rise.  Thereupon  the  Ten  Brethren  entered 
the  city,  killed  the  king,  and  took  his  kingdom. 

Thus  they  conquered  all  India,  and  in  three  and  sixty 
thousand  cities  they  slew  by  the  wheel  all  the  kings  of 

1  A  sage  mentioned  also  in  Jat.  530.  2  I.e.  beseech  him. 


them,  and  lived  at  Dvaravati,  dividing  the  kingdom  into 
ten  shares.  But  they  had  forgotten  their  sister,  the  Lady 
Anjana.  So  "  Let  us  make  eleven  shares  of  it,"  said  they. 
But  Ariikura  answered,  "Give  her  my  share,  and  I  will 
take  to  some  business  for  a  living ;  only  you  must  remit 
my  taxes  each  in  your  own  country."  They  consented, 
and  gave  his  share  to  his  sister;  and  with  her  they 
dwelt  in  Dvaravati,  nine  kings,  while  Ariikura  embarked 
in  trade. 

In  course  of  time,  they  were  all  increased  with  sons 
and  with  daughters ;  and  after  a  long  time  had  gone  by, 
their  parents  died.  At  that  period,  they  say  that  a  man's 
life  was  twenty  thousand  years. 

Then  died  one  dearly  beloved  son  of  the  great  King 
Vasudeva.  The  king,  half  dead  with  grief,  neglected 
everything,  and  lay  lamenting,  and  clutching  the  frame 
of  his  bed.  Then  Ghatapandita  thought  to  himself, 
"Except  me,  no  one  else  is  able  to  soothe  my  brother's 
grief;  I  will  find  some  means  of  soothing  his  grief  for 
him."  So  assuming  the  appearance  of  madness,  he  paced 
through  the  whole  city,  gazing  up  at  the  sky,  and  crying 
out,  "  Give  me  a  hare  !  Give  me  a  hare  ! "  All  the  city  was 
excited :  "  Ghatapandita  has  gone  mad  ! "  they  said.  Just 
then  a  courtier  named  Rohineyya,  went  into  the  presence 
of  King  Vasudeva,  and  opened  a  conversation  with  him  by 
reciting  the  first  stanza : 

Black  Kanha1,  rise!  why  close  the  eyes  to  sleep?  why  lying-  there? 
Thine  own  born  brother — see,  the  winds  away  his  wit  do  bear, 
Away  his  wisdom!   Ghata  raves,  thou  of  the  long  black  hair! 

Up  rose  the  king,  and  quickly  came  down  from  his 
chamber;  and  proceeding  to  Ghatapandita,  he  got  fast 

1  The  commentator  says  this  is  the  family  name  of  the  king  (  =  Skt.  Krishna). 
Vasudeva  is  a  secondary  name,  meaning,  'descendant  of  Vasudeva,' 


hold  of  him  with  both  hands ;  and  speaking  to  him,  uttered 
the  third 1  stanza : 

In  maniac  fashion,  why  do  you  pace  Dvaraka  all  through, 

And  cry,  "Hare,  hare!"    Say,  who  is  there  has  taken  a  hare  from 

you  ? 

To  these  words  of  the  king,  he  only  answered  by 
repeating  the  same  cry  over  and  over  again.  But  the 
king  recited  two  more  stanzas: 

Be  it  of  gold,  or  made  of  jewels  fine, 
Or  brass,  or  silver,  as  you  may  incline, 
Shell,  stone,  or  coral,  I  declare 
I'll  make  a  hare. 

And  many  other  hares  there  be,  that  range  the  woodland  wide, 
They  shall  be  brought,  I'll  have  them  caught:  say,  which  do  you 

On  hearing  the  king's  words,  the  wise  man  replied  by 
repeating  the  sixth  stanza : 

I  crave  no  hare  of  earthly  kind,  but  that  within  the  moon2-. 
0  bring  him  down,  0  Kesava !     I  ask  no  other  boon ! 

"  Undoubtedly  my  brother  has  gone  mad,"  thought  the 
king,  when  he  heard  this.  In  great  grief,  he  repeated  the 
seventh  stanza: 

In  sooth,  my  brother,  you  will  die,  if  you  make  such  a  prayer, 
And  ask  for  what  no  man  may  pray,  the  moon's  celestial  hare. 

Ghatapandita,  on  hearing  the  king's  answer,  stood 
stock  still,  and  said:  "My  brother,  you  know  that  if 
a  man  prays  for  the  hare  in  the  moon,  and  cannot  get 
it,  he  will  die ;  then  why  do  you  mourn  for  your  dead  son  ? 

If,  Kanha,  this  you  know,  and  can  console  another's  woe, 
Why  are  you  mourning  still  the  son  who  died  so  long  ago?" 

Then  he  went  on,  standing  there  in  the  street — "  And 
I,  brother,  pray  only  for  what  exists,  but  you  are  mourning 

1  A  stanza  versifying  the  previous  sentence  and  not  part  of  the  tale  is  omitted. 

2  See  note,  p.  229. 

F.  &T.  21 


for  what  does  not  exist."     Then  he  instructed  him  by 
repeating-  two  more  stanzas: 

My  son  is  born,  let  him  not  die!    Nor  man  nor  deity 

Can  have  that  boon ;  then  wherefore  pray  for  what  can  never  be  ? 

Nor  mystic  charm,  nor  magic  roots,  nor  herbs,  nor  money  spent, 
Can  bring1  to  life  again  that  ghost  whom,  Kaiiha,  you  lament. 

The  king,  on  hearing-  this,  answered,  "Your  reminder 
was  good,  dear  one.  You  did  it  to  take  away  my 
trouble."  Then  in  praise  of  Ghatapandita  he  repeated 
four  stanzas : 

Men  had  I,  wise  and  excellent  to  give  me  good  advice: 
But  how  hath  Ghatapandita  opened  this  day  mine  eyes! 

Blazing  was  I,  as  when  a  man  pours  oil  upon  a  fire ; 

Thou  didst  bring  water,  and  didst  quench  the  pain  of  my  desire. 

Grief  for  my  son,  a  cruel  shaft  was  lodged  within  my  heart ; 
Thou  hast  consoled  me  for  my  grief,  and  taken  out  the  dart. 

That  dart  extracted,  free  from  pain,  tranquil,  and  calm  I  keep; 
Hearing,  0  youth,  thy  words  of  truth,  no  more  I  grieve  nor  weep. 

In  this  manner  was  Vasudeva  consoled  by  Prince 

After  the  lapse  of  a  long  time,  during  which  he  ruled 
his  kingdom,  the  sons  of  the  ten  brethren  thought :  "  They 
say  that  Kanhadipayana  is  possessed  of  the  divine  eye.  Let 
us  put  him  to  the  test."  So  they  procured  a  young  lad, 
and  drest  him  up,  and  by  binding  a  pillow  about  his  belly, 
made  it  appear  as  though  he  were  with  child.  Then  they 
brought  him  into  his  presence,  and  asked  him,  "  To  what, 
sir,  Avill  this  girl  give  birth?"  The  ascetic  perceived1  that 
the  time  was  come  for  the  destruction  of  the  ten  royal 
brothers ;  then,  looking1  to  see  what  the  term  of  his  own 
life  should  be,  he  perceived  that  he  must  die  that  very 
day.  Then  he  said,  "Young  sirs,  what  is  this  man  to  you  ? " 

1  I.e.  by  his  miraculous  vision. 


"Answer  us,"  they  replied  persistently.  He  answered, 
"  This  man  on  the  seventh  day  from  now  will  bring  forth 
a  knot  of  acacia  wood.  With  that  he  will  destroy  the  line 
of  Vasudeva,  even  though  ye  should  take  the  piece  of 
wood  and  burn  it,  and  cast  the  ashes  into  the  river." 
"  Ah,  false  ascetic ! "  said  they,  "  a  man  can  never  bring- 
forth  a  child ! "  and  they  did  the  rope  and  string  business, 
and  killed  him  at  once.  The  kings  sent  for  the  vouno- 

f  O 

men,  and  asked  them  why  they  had  killed  the  ascetic. 
When  they  heard  all,  they  were  frightened.  They  set  a 
guard  upon  the  man;  and  when  on  the  seventh  day  he 
voided  from  his  belly  a  knot  of  acacia  wood,  they  burnt 
it,  and  cast  the  ashes  into  the  river.  The  ashes  floated 
down  the  river,  and  stuck  on  one  side  by  a  postern  gate ; 
from  thence  sprung  an  eraka  plant. 

One  day,  the  kings  proposed  that  they  should  go  and 
disport  themselves  in  the  water.  So  to  this  postern  gate 
they  came ;  and  they  caused  a  great  pavilion  to  be  made, 
and  in  that  gorgeous  pavilion  they  ate  and  drank.  Then 
in  sport  they  began  to  catch  hold  of  hand  and  foot,  and 
dividing  into  two  parts,  they  became  very  quarrelsome. 
At  last  one  of  them,  finding  nothing  better  for  a  club, 
picked  a  leaf  from  the  eraka  plant,  which  even  as  he 
plucked  it  became  a  club  of  acacia  wood  in  his  hand. 
With  this  he  beat  many  people.  Then  the  others  plucked 
also,  and  the  things  as  they  took  them  became  clubs,  and 
with  them  they  cudgelled  one  another  until  they  were 
killed.  As  these  were  destroying  each  other,  four  only- 
Vasudeva,  Baladeva,  the  lady  Aiijana  their  sister,  and  the 
family  priest — mounted  a  chariot  and  fled  away ;  the  rest 
perished,  every  one. 

Now  these  four,  fleeing  away  in  the  chariot,  came  to 
the  forest  of  Kalamattika.     There  Mutthika  the  Wrestler 



had  been  born,  having  become  according  to  his  prayer 
a  goblin.  When  he  perceived  the  coming  of  Baladeva, 
he  created  a  village  in  that  spot ;  and  taking  the  semblance 
of  a  wrestler,  he  went  jumping  about,  and  shouting,  "Who's 
for  a  fight  ? "  snapping  his  fingers  the  while.  Baladeva, 
as  soon  as  he  saw  him,  said,  "  Brother,  111  try  a  fall  with 
this  fellow."  Vasudeva  tried  and  tried  his  best  to  prevent 
him ;  but  down  he  got  from  the  chariot,  and  went  up  to 
him,  snapping  his  fingers.  The  other  just  seized  him  in 
the  hollow  of  his  hand,  and  gobbled  him  up  like  a  radish- 
bulb.  Vasudeva,  perceiving  that  he  was  dead,  went  on  all 
night  long  with  his  sister  and  the  priest,  and  at  sunrise 
arrived  at  a  frontier  village.  He  lay  down  in  the  shelter 
of  a  bush,  and  sent  his  sister  and  the  priest  into  the 
village,  with  orders  to  cook  some  food  and  bring  it  to  him. 
A  huntsman  (his  name  was  Jara,  or  Old  Age)  noticed  the 
bush  shaking.  "  A  pig,  sure  enough,1'  thought  he ;  he 
threw  a  spear,  and  pierced  his  feet.  "  Who  has  wounded 
me  ? "  cried  out  Vfisudeva.  The  huntsman,  finding  that 
he  had  wounded  a  man,  set  off  running  in  terror.  The 
king,  recovering  his  wits,  got  up,  and  called  the  huntsman- 
" Uncle,  come  here,  don't  be  afraid!"  When  he  came- 
"Who  are  you?"  asked  Vasudeva.  "My  name  is  Jara, 
my  lord."  "Ah,"  thought  the  king,  "whom  Old  Age 
wounds  will  die,  so  the  ancients  used  to  say.  Without 
doubt  I  must  die  to-day."  Then  he  said,  "  Fear  not, 
Uncle ;  come,  bind  up  my  wound."  The  mouth  of  the 
wound  bound  up,  the  king  let  him  go.  Great  pains  came 
upon  him ;  he  could  not  eat  the  food  that  the  others 
brought.  Then  addressing  himself  to  the  others,  Vasudeva 
said :  This  day  I  am  to  die.  You  are  delicate  creatures, 
and  will  never  be  able  to  learn  anything  else  for  a 
living;  so  learn  this  science  from  me."  So  saying,  he 

RAMA   AND   SITA  325 

taught  them  a  science,  and  let  them  go ;  and  then  died 

Thus  excepting  the  lady  Anjana,  they  perished  every 
one,  it  is  said. 

A  version  of  the  tale  which  became  the  legend  of  Vishnu's  eighth  avatar  as 
Krishna,  given  most  fully  in  the  Bhdgarata  Purdna  ix.  24.  See  also  Vishnu 
Purdna  iv.  lo,  and  a  summary  in  Dowson's  Class.  Diet,  of  Hindu  Mythol.,  London, 
1879.  In  the  brahmin  version  the  husband  of  Devaki  ( =  Devagabbha)  is  Vasudeva> 
and  his  son  Krishna  (  =  Kanha)  has  the  epithet  Vasudeva  as  in  the  jataka.  Kamsa 
is  the  cousin  of  Devaki,  and  learning  that  he  will  lose  his  life  through  a  son  he  kills 
all  her  children,  until  the  seventh  Bala-rama  (  =  Bala-deva)  and  Krishna  the  eighth 
are  miraculously  preserved.  The  embryo  of  Krishna  is  transferred  to  Yasoda,  wife 
of  Nauda  the  cowherd  (Nandagopa),  but  Kamsa  orders  every  vigorous  infant  to  be 
put  to  death.  Nauda  flees  and  rears  Krishna.  This  has  been  compared  with 
Herod's  slaughter  of  the  innocents.  The  wrestling-match  of  Krishna  and  his  brother 
with  Caniira  and  Mustika  is  given  at  length  in  Vishnu  Pur.  v.  20.  One  of  Krishna's 
sons  was  Pradyumna  (  =  Pajjuna,  a  brother  in  the  jataka).  The  mutual  destruction 
of  the  chiefs,  caused  by  the  eraka  plant  in  the  jataka,  is  due  in  the  Hindu  legend  to 
Krishna's  prohibition  of  wine.  He  permits  it  to  be  drunk  for  one  day,  and  a  drunken 
brawl  ensues  in  which  most  of  them  perish.  This  version  is  referred  to  in  Jat.  512, 
p.  393.  The  death  of  Krishna  is  the  same  in  both  tales.  In  Buddhaghosha  xxvi. 
the  legend  is  worked  into  the  history  of  Buddha's  family.  There  is  confusion  in  the 
name  Andhakavenhu.  It  corresponds  to  Andhavrishni  of  the  Puranas,  where  it  is  a 
title  of  Krishna,  "  descendant  of  Andha  (or  Andhaka)  and  Vrishni,"  two  ancestors  of 
Krishna  according  to  his  real  birth.  For  the  beginning  of  the  story  Dr  Rouse 
compares  the  story  of  Danae. 


Once  upon  a  time,  at  Benares,  a  great  king  named 
Dasaratha  renounced  the  ways  of  evil,  and  reigned  in 
righteousness.  Of  his  sixteen  thousand  wives,  the  eldest 
and  queen-consort  bore  him  two  sons  and  a  daughter ; 
the  elder  son  was  named  Rama-pandita,  or  Rama  the 
Wise,  the  second  was  named  Prince  Lakkhana,  or  Lucky, 
and  the  daughter's  name  was  the  Lady  Sita1. 

1  The  name  means  "  a  furrow  " :  she  was  so  called,  according  to  brahmin  legend, 
because  she  sprang  from  a  furrow  which  king  Janaka  made  in  ploughing  for  a 
sacrifice  to  obtain  progeny.  The  tale  is  no  doubt  an  elaboration  of  a  more  primitive 

326  RAMA  AND   SITA 

In  course  of  time,  the  queen-consort  died.  At  her 
death  the  king  was  for  a  long  time  crushed  by  sorrow,  but 
urged  by  his  courtiers  he  performed  her  obsequies,  and 
set  another  in  her  place  as  queen-consort.  She  was  dear 
to  the  king  and  beloved.  In  time  she  also  conceived,  and 
all  due  attention  having  been  given  her,  she  brought  forth 
a  son,  and  they  named  him  Prince  Bharata. 

The  king  loved  his  son  much,  and  said  to  the  queen, 
"  Lady,  I  offer  you  a  boon :  choose."  She  accepted  the 
offer,  but  put  it  off  for  the  time.  When  the  lad  was  seven 
years  old,  she  went  to  the  king,  and  said  to  him,  "  My  lord, 
you  promised  a  boon  for  my  son.  Will  you  give  it  me 
now?"  "Choose,  lady,"  said  he.  "My  lord,"  quoth  she, 
"  give  my  son  the  kingdom."  The  king  snapt  his  fingers 
at  her;  "Out,  vile  jade!"  said  he  angrily,  "my  other  two 
sons  shine  like  blazing  fires ;  would  you  kill  them,  and  ask 
the  kingdom  for  a  son  of  yours  ? "  She  fled  in  terror  to 
her  magnificent  chamber,  and  on  other  days  again  and 
again  asked  the  king  the  same.  The  king  would  not  give 
her  this  gift.  He  thought  within  himself:  "Women  are 
ungrateful  and  treacherous.  This  woman  might  use  a 
forged  letter  or  a  treacherous  bribe  to  get  my  sons 
murdered."  So  he  sent  for  his  sons,  and  told  them  all 
about  it,  saying :  "  My  sons,  if  you  live  here  some  mischief 
may  befall  you.  Go  to  some  neighbouring  kingdom,  or 
to  the  woodland,  and  when  my  body  is  burnt,  then  return 
and  inherit  the  kingdom  which  belongs  to  your  family." 
Then  he  summoned  soothsayers,  and  asked  them  the 
limits  of  his  own  life.  They  told  him  he  would  live  yet 
twelve  years  longer.  Then  he  said,  "  Now,  my  sons,  after 
twelve  years  you  must  return,  and  uplift  the  umbrella  of 
royalty."  They  promised,  and  after  taking  leave  of  their 
father,  went  forth  from  the  palace  weeping.  The  Lady 

RAMA   AND  SITA  327 

Sita  said,  "  I  too  will  go  with  my  brothers  " :  she  bade  her 
father  farewell,  and  went  forth  weeping. 

These  three  departed  amidst  a  great  company  of 
people.  They  sent  the  people  back,  and  proceeded  until 
at  last  they  came  to  Himalaya.  There  in  a  spot  well- 
watered,  and  convenient  for  the  getting  of  wild  fruits,  they 
built  a  hermitage,  and  there  lived,  feeding  upon  the  wild 

Lakkhana-pandita  and  Sita  said  to  Rama-pandita, 
"  You  are  in  place  of  a  father  to  us ;  remain  then  in  the 
hermitage,  and  we  will  bring  fruits,  and  feed  you."  He 
agreed :  thenceforward  Rama-pandita  stayed  where  he 
was,  the  others  brought  the  fruits  and  fed  him. 

Thus  they  lived  there,  feeding  upon  the  wild  fruit; 
but  King  Dasaratha  pined  after  his  sons,  and  died  in 
the  ninth  year.  When  his  obsequies  were  performed,  the 
queen  gave  orders  that  the  umbrella  should  be  raised 
over  her  son,  Prince  Bharata.  But  the  courtiers  said, 
"The  lords  of  the  umbrella  are  dwelling  in  the  forest, 
and  they  would  not  allow  it."  Said  Prince  Bharata,  "  I 
will  fetch  back  my  brother  Rama-pandita  from  the  forest, 
and  raise  the  royal  umbrella  over  him."  Taking  the  five 
emblems  of  royalty1,  he  proceeded  with  a  complete  host 
of  the  four  arms2  to  their  dwelling-place.  Not  far  away 
he  caused  camp  to  be  pitched,  and  then  with  a  few 
courtiers  he  visited  the  hermitage,  at  the  time  when 
Lakkhana-pandita  and  Sita  were  away  in  the  woods.  At 
the  door  of  the  hermitage  sat  Rama-pandita,  undismayed 
and  at  ease,  like  a  figure  of  fine  gold  firmly  set.  The 
prince  approached  him  with  a  greeting,  and  standing  on 
one  side,  told  him  of  all  that  had  happened  in  the 

1  Sword,  umbrella,  diadem,  slippers,  and  fan. 
'2  Elephants,  cavalry,  chariots,  infantry. 

328  RAMA  AND   SITA 

kingdom,  and  falling  at  his  feet  along  with  the  courtiers, 
burst  into  weeping.  Rama-pandita  neither  sorrowed  nor 
wept ;  he  shewed  no  change  of  feeling.  When  Bharata  had 
finished  weeping,  and  sat  down,  towards  evening  the  other 
two  returned  with  wild  fruits.  Rama-pandita  thought- 
"  These  two  are  young :  all-comprehensive  wisdom  like 
mine  is  not  theirs.  If  they  are  told  on  a  sudden  that  our 
father  is  dead,  the  pain  will  be  greater  than  they  can 
bear,  and  who  knows  but  their  hearts  may  break.  I  will 
find  a  device  to  persuade  them  to  go  down  into  the  water, 
and  then  tell  them  the  news."  Then  pointing  out  to 
them  a  place  in  front  where  there  was  water,  he  said, 
"  You  have  been  out  too  long :  let  this  be  your  penance- 
go  into  that  water,  and  stand  there."  Then  he  repeated 
a  half-stanza: 

Let  Lakkhana  and  Sita  both  into  that  pond  descend. 

One  word  sufficed,  into  the  water  they  went,  and 
stood  there.  Then  he  told  them  the  news  by  repeating 
the  other  half-stanza : 

Bharata  says,  king-  Dasaratha's  life  is  at  an  end. 

When  they  heard  the  news  of  their  father's  death,  they 
fainted.  Again  he  repeated  it,  again  they  fainted,  and 
when  even  a  third  time  they  fainted  away,  the  courtiers 
raised  them  and  brought  them  out  of  the  water,  and  set 
them  upon  dry  ground.  When  they  had  been  comforted, 
they  all  sat  weeping  and  wailing  together.  Then  Prince 
Bharata  thought:  "Mv  brother  Prince  Lakkhana,  and  mv 

*'  •  «. 

sister  the  Lady  Sita,  cannot  restrain  their  grief  to  hear 
of  our  father's  death  ;  but  Rama-pandita  neither  wails 
nor  weeps.  I  wonder  what  can  the  reason  be  that  he 
grieves  not  ?  I  will  ask."  Then  he  repeated  the  second 
stanza,  asking  the  question : 

RAMA   AND   SITA  329 

Say  by  what  power  thou  grievest  not,  Kama,  when  grief  should  be? 
Though  it  is  said  thy  sire  is  dead  grief  overwhelms  not  thee! 

Then  Rama-pandita  explained  the  reason  of  his  not 
grieving  by  saying, 

When  man  can  never  keep  a  thing,  though  loudly  he  may  cry, 
Why  should  a  wise  intelligence  torment  itself  thereby? 

The  young  in  years,  the  older  grown,  the  fool,  and  eke  the  wise, 
For  rich,  for  poor  one  end  is  sure:  each  man  among  them  dies. 

As  sure  as  for  the  ripened  fruit  there  conies  the  fear  of  fall, 
So  surely  comes  the  fear  of  death  to  mortals  one  and  all. 
Who  in  the  morning  light  are  seen  by  evening  oft  are  gone, 
And  seen  at  evening  time,  is  gone  by  morning  many  a  one. 

If  to  a  fool  infatuate  a  blessing  could  accrue 

When  he  torments  himself  with  tears,  the  wise  this  same  would  do. 

By  this  tormenting  of  himself  he  waxes  thin  and  pale; 
This  cannot  bring  the  dead  to  life,  and  nothing  tears  avail. 

Even  as  a  blazing  house  may  be  put  out  with  water,  so 

The  strong,  the  wise,  the  intelligent,  who  well  the  scriptures  know, 

Scatter  their  grief  like  cotton  when  the  stormy  winds  do  blow. 

One  mortal  dies — to  kindred  ties  born  is  another  straight : 
Each  creature's  bliss  dependent  is  on  ties  associate. 

The  strong  man  therefore,  skilled  in  sacred  text, 
Keen-contemplating  this  world  and  the  next, 

Knowing  their  nature,  not  by  any  grief, 
However  great,  in  mind  and  heart  is  vext. 

So  to  my  kindred  I  will  give,  them  will  I  keep  and  feed, 
All  that  remain  I  will  maintain :  such  is  the  wise  man's  deed. 

In  these  stanzas  he  explained  the  Impermanence  of 

When  the  company  heard  this  discourse  of  Rama- 
pandita,  illustrating  the  doctrine  of  Impermanence,  they 
lost  all  their  grief.  Then  Prince  Bharata  saluted  Rama- 
pandita,  begging  him  to  receive  the  kingdom  of  Benares. 
"Brother,"  said  Rama,  "take  Lakkhana  and  Sita  with  you, 
and  administer  the  kingdom  yourselves."  "No,  my  lord, 
you  take  it."  "Brother,  my  father  commanded  me  to 

330  RAMA  AND   SITA 

receive  the  kingdom  at  the  end  of  twelve  years.  If  I  go 
now,  I  shall  not  carry  out  his  bidding-.  After  three  more 
years  I  will  come."  "  Who  will  carry  on  the  government 
all  that  time  ? "  "  You  do  it."  "  I  will  not."  "  Then  until 
I  come,  these  slippers  shall  do  it,"  said  Rama,  and  doffing 
his  slippers  of  straw  he  gave  them  to  his  brother.  So 
these  three  persons  took  the  slippers,  and  bidding  the 
Avise  man  farewell,  went  to  Benares  with  their  great  crowd 
of  followers. 

For  three  years  the  slippers  ruled  the  kingdom.  The 
courtiers  placed  these  straw  slippers  upon  the  royal 
throne,  when  they  judged  a  cause.  If  the  cause  were 
decided  wrongly,  the  slippers  beat  upon  each  other,  and 
at  that  sign  it  was  examined  again ;  when  the  decision 
was  right,  the  slippers  lay  quiet. 

When  the  three  years  were  over,  the  wise  man  came 
out  of  the  forest,  and  came  to  Benares,  and  entered  the 
park.  The  princes  hearing  of  his  arrival  proceeded  with 
a  great  company  to  the  park,  and  making  Slta  the  queen- 
consort,  gave  to  them  both  the  ceremonial  sprinkling. 
The  sprinkling  thus  performed,  the  Great  Being,  standing 
in  a  magnificent  chariot,  and  surrounded  by  a  vast 
company,  entered  the  city,  making  a  solemn  circuit  right- 
wise  ;  then  mounting  to  the  great  terrace  of  his  splendid 
palace  Sucandaka,  he  reigned  there  in  righteousness  for 
sixteen  thousand  years,  and  then  went  to  swell  the  hosts 
of  heaven. 

The  story  of  the  Ramayana,  in  which  a  primitive  feature  appears  to  be  preserved 
in  the  relations  of  Raina  and  Slta  as  brother  and  sister,  with  the  usual  buddhist 
modification  of  making  one  character  a  Bodhisatta.  In  the  epic  the  three  stay  with 
the  sage  Valmlki,  and  during  the  exile  Slta  is  carried  off  to  Ceylon  by  Kfivana, 
and  recovered  by  Rfuna.  Cf.  H.  Jacobi,  Das  fid///<'i//>ntn,  p.  84  (Bonn,  1893). 
Sylvain  Levi  gives  a  Chinese  buddhist  version  (Album  Kern  279),  and  assumes,  what 
is  surely  very  improbable,  that  the  Buddhists  transformed  Slta  from  wife  to  sister. 
In  the  Chinese  version  she  is  suppressed.  On  the  incident  of  the  slippers  cf. 


Campbell,  Popular  Tales  of  the  West  Highlands,  n.  159.  "The  kings  had  :i 
heritage  at  that  time.  When  they  did  not  know  how  to  split  justice  properly,  the 
judgment-seat  would  begin  to  kick,  and  the  king's  neck  Avould  take  a  twist  when  he 
did  not  do  justice  as  he  ought." 


Once  upon  a  time,  when  Brahmadatta  was  king-  of 
Benares,  the  Bodhisatta  was  born  as  the  son  of  his  chief 
queen ;  and  because  his  all-blessed  countenance  was  like 
a  lotus  full-blown,  Paduma-Kumara  they  named  him, 
which  is  to  say,  the  Lotus  Prince.  When  he  grew  up  he 
was  educated  in  all  arts  and  accomplishments.  Then  his 
mother  departed  this  life ;  the  king  took  another  consort, 
and  appointed  his  son  viceroy. 

After  this  the  king,  being  about  to  set  forth  to  quell  a 
rising  on  the  frontier,  said  to  his  consort,  "Do  you,  lady, 
stay  here,  while  I  go  forth  to  quell  the  frontier  insur- 
rection." But  she  replied,  "No,  my  lord,  here  I  will  not 
remain,  but  I  will  go  with  you."  Then  he  shewed  her 
the  danger  which  lay  on  the  field  of  battle,  adding  to  it 
this :  "  Stay  then  here  without  vexation  until  my  return, 
and  I  will  give  charge  to  Prince  Paduma,  that  he  be 
careful  in  all  that  should  be  done  for  you,  and  then  I 
will  go/'  So  thus  he  did,  and  departed. 

When  he  had  scattered  his  enemies,  and  pacified  the 
country,  he  returned,  and  pitched  his  camp  without  the 
city.  The  Bodhisatta  learning  of  his  father's  return, 
adorned  the  city,  and  setting  a  watch  over  the  royal 
palace,  went  forth  alone  to  meet  his  father.  The  queen 
observing  the  beauty  of  his  appearance,  became  enamoured 
of  him.  In  taking  leave  of  her,  the  Bodhisatta  said,  "Can 
I  do  anything  for  you,  mother?"  "Mother,  do  you  call 


me?"  quoth  she.  She  rose  up  and  seized  his  hands, 
saying.  "Lie  on  my  couch!'1  "Why?"  he  asked.  "Just 
until  the  king  comes,"  she  said,  "let  us  both  enjoy  the 
bliss  of  love!"  "Mother,  my  mother  you  are,  and  you 
have  a  husband  living.  Such  a  thing  I  have  never  before 
seen,  that  a  woman,  a  matron,  should  break  the  moral 
law  in  the  way  of  fleshly  lust.  How  can  I  do  such  a  deed 
with  you?"  Twice  and  thrice  she  besought  him,  and 
when  he  would  not,  said  she,  "  Then  you  refuse  to  do  as 
I  ask?"  -"Indeed  I  do  refuse."  -"Then  I  will  speak  to  the 
king,  and  cause  you  to  be  beheaded."  "  Do  as  you  will," 
answered  the  Great  Being;  and  having  shamed  her  he 
left  her.  Then  in  fear  she  thought :  "  If  he  tell  the  king 
first,  there  is  no  life  for  me  !  I  must  get  speech  of  him 
first  myself."  Accordingly  leaving  her  food  untouched 
she  donned  a  soiled  robe,  and  made  nail-scratches  upon 
her  body;  giving  orders  to  her  attendants,  that  when  the 
king  should  ask  of  the  queen's  whereabouts,  he  should  be 
told  she  was  ill,  she  lay  down  making  a  pretence  of  illness. 
Xow  the  king  made  solemn  procession  about  the  city 
right  wise,  and  went  up  into  his  dwelling.  When  he  saw 
her  not,  he  asked,  "Where  is  the  queen?"  "She  is  ill," 
they  said.  He  entered  the  state  chamber,  and  asked  her, 
"What  is  amiss  with  you,  lady?"  She  made  as  though 
she  heard  nothing.  Twice  and  yet  thrice  he  asked,  and 
then  she  answered,  "  O  great  king,  why  do  you  ask?  Be 
silent :  women  that  have  a  husband  must  be  even  as  I  am." 
"Who  has  annoyed  you?"  said  he.  "Tell  me  quickly,  and 
I  will  have  him  beheaded."  -"Whom  did  you  leave  behind 
you  in  this  city,  when  you  went  away?"  -"Prince  Paduma.' 
"And  he,"  she  went  on,  "came  into  my  room,  and  I  said. 
My  son,  do  not  so,  I  am  your  mother:  but  say  what  I 
would,  he  cried,  None  is  king  here  but  me,  and  I  will  take 


you  to  my  dwelling,  and  enjoy  your  love ;  then  he  seized 
me  by  the  hair  of  my  head,  and  plucked  it  out  again  and 
again,  and  as  I  would  not  yield  to  his  will,  he  wounded 
and  beat  me,  and  departed."  The  king  made  no  investi- 
gation, but  furious  as  a  serpent,  commanded  his  men,  "Go 
and  bind  Prince  Paduma,  and  bring  him  to  me !"  They 
went  to  his  house,  swarming  as  it  were  through  the  city, 
and  bound  him  and  beat  him,  bound  his  hands  fast  behind 
his  back,  put  about  his  neck  the  garland  of  red  flowers, 
making  him  a  condemned  criminal,  and  led  him  thither, 
beating  him  the  while.  It  was  clear  to  him  that  this  was 
the  queen's  doing,  and  as  he  went  along  he  cried  out, 
"  Ho  fellows,  I  am  not  one  that  has  offended  against  the 
king!  I  am  innocent."  All  the  city  was  a-bubble  with 
the  news:  "They  say  the  king  is  going  to  execute  Prince 
Paduma  at  the  bidding  of  a  woman ! "  They  flocked 
together,  they  fell  at  the  prince's  feet,  lamenting  with  a 
great  noise,  "You  have  not  deserved  this,  my  lord!" 

At  last  they  brought  him  before  the  king.  At  sight  of 
him,  the  king  could  not  restrain  what  was  in  his  heart,  and 
cried  out,  "This  fellow  is  no  king,  but  he  plays  the  king- 
finely  !  My  son  he  is,  yet  he  has  insulted  the  queen. 
Away  with  him,  down  with  him  over  the  thieves'  cliff, 
make  an  end  of  him !"  But  the  prince  said  to  his  father, 
"No  such  crime  lies  at  my  door,  father.  Do  not  kill  me 
on  a  woman's  word."  The  king  would  not  listen  to  him. 
Then  all  those  of  the  royal  seraglio,  in  number  six- 
teen thousand,  raised  a  great  lamentation,  saying,  "Dear 
Paduma,  mighty  Prince,  this  dealing  you  have  never 
deserved !"  And  all  the  warrior  chiefs  and  great  mag- 
nates of  the  land,  and  all  the  attendant  courtiers  cried, 
"My  lord!  the  prince  is  a  man  of  goodness  and  virtuous 
life,  observes  the  traditions  of  his  race,  heir  to  the  kingdom ! 


Do  not  slay  him  at  a  woman's  word,  without  a  hearing ! 
A  king's  duty  it  is  to  act  with  all  circumspection."  So 
saying,  they  repeated  seven  stanzas : 

No  king  should  puiiish  an  offence,  and  hear  no  pleas  at  all, 
Not  throughly  sifting  it  himself  in  all  points,  great  and  small. 

The  warrior  chief  who  punishes  a  fault  before  he  tries, 

Is  like  a  man  born  blind,  who  eats  his  food  all  bones  and  flies. 

Who  punishes  the  guiltless,  and  lets  go  the  guilty,  knows 
No  more  than  one  who  blind  upon  a  rugged  highway  goes. 

He  who  all  this  examines  well,  in  things  both  great  and  small, 
And  so  administers,  deserves  to  be  the  head  of  all. 

He  that  would  set  himself  on  high  must  not  all-gentle  be 
Nor  all-severe:  but  both  these  things  practise  in  company. 

Contempt  the  all-gentle  wins,  and  he  that's  all-severe  has  wrath: 
So  of  the  pair  be  well  aware,  and  keep  a  middle  path. 

Much  can  the  angry  man,  0  king,  and  much  the  knave  can  say: 
And  therefore  for  a  woman's  sake  thy  sou  thou  must  not  slay. 

But  for  all  they  could  say  in  many  ways  the  courtiers 
could  not  win  him  to  do  their  bidding.  The  Bodhisatta 
also, for  all  his  beseeching,  could  not  persuade  him  to  listen: 
nay,  the  king,  blind  fool,  said — "Away!  down  with  him  over 
the  thieves'  cliff!"  repeating  the  eighth  stanza: 

One  side  the  whole  world  stands,  my  queen  on  the  other  all  alone; 
Yet  her  I  cleave  to :  cast  him  down  the  cliff ,  and  get  you  gone ! 

At  these  words,  not  one  among  the  sixteen  thousand 
women  could  remain  unmoved,  while  all  the  populace 
stretched  out  their  hands,  and  tore  their  hair,  with  lamenta- 
tions. The  king  said,  "Let  these  but  try  to  prevent  the 
throwing  of  this  fellow  over  the  cliff!"  and  amidst  his 
followers,  though  the  crowd  wailed  around,  he  caused  the 
prince  to  be  seized,  and  cast  down  the  precipice  over 
heels  head-first. 

Then  owing  to  the  magic  power  due  to  his  practice  of 
friendliness  the  deity  of  the  hill  comforted  the  prince, 


saying,  "Fear  not,  Paduma!"  and  in  both  hands  he  caught 
him,  pressed  him  to  his  heart,  sent  a  divine  thrill  through 
him,  set  him  in  the  abode  of  the  nagas  of  the  eight  ranges, 
within  the  hood  of  the  naga-king.  The  king  received  the 
Bodhisatta  into  the  abode  of  the  nagas,  and  gave  him 
the  half  of  his  own  glory  and  state.  There  for  one  year 
he  dwelt.  Then  he  said,  "  I  would  go  back  to  the  ways  of 
men."  "Whither?"  they  asked.  "To  Himalaya,  where  I 
will  become  an  ascetic."  The  naga-king  gave  his  consent ; 
taking  him,  he  conveyed  him  to  the  place  where  men  go 
to  and  fro,  and  gave  him  the  requisites  of  an  ascetic,  and 
went  back  to  his  own  place. 

So  he  proceeded  to  Himalaya,  became  a  hermit-sage, 
and  cultivated  the  faculty  of  ecstatic  bliss ;  there  he  abode, 
feeding  upon  fruits  and  roots  of  the  woodland. 

Now  a  certain  wood-ranger,  who  dwelt  in  Benares, 
came  to  that  place,  and  recognised  the  Great  Being. 
"Are  you  not,"  he  asked,  "the  great  Prince  Paduma, 
my  lord?"  "Yes,  sir,"  he  replied.  The  other  saluted 
him,  and  there  for  some  days  he  remained.  Then  he 
returned  to  Benares;  and  said  to  the  king,  "Your  son, 
my  lord,  has  embraced  the  religious  life  in  the  region  of 
Himalaya,  and  lives  in  a  hut  of  leaves.  I  have  been 
staying  with  him,  and  thence  I  come."  "  Have  you  seen 
him  with  your  own  eyes  ? "  asked  the  king.  "  Yes,  my 
lord."  The  king  with  a  great  host  went  thither,  and  on 
the  outskirts  of  the  forest  he  pitched  his  camp;  then  with 
his  courtiers  around  him,  went  to  salute  the  Great  Being-, 


who  sat  at  the  door  of  his  hut  of  leaves,  in  all  the  glory  of 
his  golden  form,  and  sat  on  one  side ;  the  courtiers  also 
greeted  him,  and  spoke  pleasantly  to  him,  and  sat  on 
one  side.  The  Bodhisatta  on  his  part  invited  the  king  to 
share  his  wild  fruits,  and  talked  pleasantly  with  him. 


Then  said  the  king,  "  My  son,  by  me  you  were  cast  down 
a  deep  precipice,  and  how  is  it  you  are  yet  alive  ?"  Asking 
which,  he  repeated  the  ninth  stanza : 

As  into  hell-mouth,  you  were  cast  over  a  beetling  hill, 

No  succour — many  palm-trees  deep :  how  are  you  living-  still  ? 

These  are  the  remaining  stanzas,  and  of  the  five,  taken 
alternately,  three  were  spoken  by  the  Bodhisatta,  and  two 
by  the  king. 

A  naga  mighty,  full  of  force,  born  on  that  mountain  land, 
Caught  me  within  his  coils ;  and  so  here  safe  from  death  I  stand. 
Lo !   I  will  take  you  back,  0  prince,  to  my  own  home  again : 
And  there— what  is  the  wood  to  you  ?— with  blessing  you  shall  reign. 
As  who  a  hook  has  swallowed,  and  draws  it  forth  all  blood, 
Drawn  forth,  is  happy:  so  I  see  in  me  this  bliss  and  good. 
Why  speak  you  thus  about  a  hook,  why  speak  you  thus  of  gore, 
Why  speak  about  the  drawing  out?    Come  tell  me,  I  implore. 
Lust  is  the  hook:  fine  elephants  and  horse  by  blood  I  shew; 
These  by  renouncing  I  have  drawn ;  this,  chieftain,  you  must  know. 

"  Thus,  O  great  king,  to  be  king  is  nothing  to  me ;  but 
do  you  see  to  it,  that  you  break  not  the  Ten  Royal  Virtues, 
but  forsake  evil-doing,  and  rule  in  righteousness."  In 
those  words  the  Great  Being  admonished  the  king.  He 
with  weeping  and  wailing  departed,  and  on  the  way  to  his 
city  he  asked  his  courtiers:  "On  whose  account  was  it 
that  I  made  a  breach  with  a  son  so  virtuous?"  they 
replied,  "The  queen's."  Her  the  king  caused  to  be  seized, 
and  cast  headlong  over  the  thieves'  cliff!  and  entering  his 
city  ruled  in  righteousness. 

The  theme  of  Phaedra  and  Hippolytus.  In  Schmidt  xxxvi.  the  actors  are  the 
wife  and  pupil  of  a  brahmin  teacher.  Dr  Rouse  gives  as  Indian  variants  the  Legei«l 
of  Puran  Mai  (MS.  written  l>y  Kam  Gliarib  Sharma,  Chaturvaidya,  collected  by 
W.  Crooke),  and  Lc<j>  /"/  •;/  R"i>  ">/</  ]}<i*«nt.  or  Sit  and  Basant.  In  both  of  these 
the  queen  falls  in  love  with  her  step-son.  Jat.  120  is  closer  to  the  story  of  Joseph. 
A  queen  commits  adultery  with  sixty-four  footmen,  and  fails  with  the  family  priest. 
Like  Potiphar's  wife  she  accuses  him,  but  he  proves  his  innocence. 


Once  upon  a  time,  when  Brahmadatta  was  king  of 
Benares,  the  family  of  his  household  priest  was  destroyed 
by  malarial  fever.  One  son  only  broke  through  the  wall1 
and  escaped.  He  came  to  Takkasila,  and  under  a  world- 
renowned  teacher  learnt  the  Vedas  and  the  other  arts. 
Then  he  bade  his  teacher  farewell,  and  departed,  with  the 
intent  to  travel  in  different  regions ;  and  on  his  travels  he 
arrived  at  a  frontier  village.  Near  to  this  was  a  great 
village  of  low-caste  Candalas.  Then  the  Bodhisatta  abode 
in  this  village,  a  learned  sage.  A  charm  he  knew  which 
could  make  fruit  to  be  gathered  out  of  due  season.  Early 
of  a  morning  he  would  take  his  carrying  pole,  forth  from 
that  village  he  would  go,  until  he  reached  a  mango  tree 
which  grew  in  the  forest ;  and  standing  seven  foot  off,  he 
would  recite  that  charm,  and  throw  a  handful  of  water  so 
as  to  strike  on  that  tree.  In  a  twinkling  down  fall  the 
sere  leaves,  sprout  forth  the  new,  flowers  blow  and  flowers 
fall,  the  mango  fruits  swell  out:  but  one  moment — they 
are  ripe,  they  are  sweet  and  luscious,  they  grow  like  fruit 
divine,  they  drop  from  the  tree  !  The  Great  Being  chooses 
and  eats  such  as  he  will,  then  fills  the  baskets  hung  from 
his  pole,  goes  home  and  sells  the  fruit,  and  so  finds  a 
living  for  wife  and  child. 

Now  the  young  brahmin  saAv  the  Great  Being  offer  ripe 
mangoes  for  sale  out  of  season.  "Without  doubt,"  thought 
he,  "  it  must  be  by  virtue  of  some  charm  that  these  are 

1  So  in  Jat.  178.  It  is  noteworthy  that  here  the  same  means  is  used  to  outwit 
the  spirit  of  disease  as  is  often  taken  to  outwit  the  ghosts  of  the  dead ;  who  might 
be  supposed  to  guard  the  door,  but  not  the  parts  of  the  house  where  there  was  no 
outlet.  (Dr  Rouse.) 

F.  &  T.  22 


grown.  This  man  can  teach  me  a  charm  which  has  no 
price."  He  watched  to  see  the  manner  in  which  the  Great 
Being  procured  his  fruit,  and  found  it  out  exactly.  Then 
he  went  to  the  Great  Being's  house  at  the  time  when  he 
was  not  yet  returned  from  the  forest,  and  making  as 
though  he  knew  nothing,  asked  the  wise  man's  wife, 
"Where  is  the  Teacher?"  Quoth  she,  "Gone  to  the 
woods."  He  stood  waiting  until  he  saw  him  come,  then 
went  to  him,  and  taking  the  pole  and  baskets  from  him, 
carried  them  into  the  house  and  there  set  them.  The 
Great  Being  looked  at  him,  and  said  to  his  wife,  "  Lady, 
this  youth  has  come  to  get  the  charm ;  but  no  charm  will 
stay  with  him,  for  no  good  man  is  he."  But  the  youth 
was  thinking,  "  I  will  get  the  charm  by  being  my  teacher's 
servant " ;  and  so  from  that  time  he  did  all  that  was  to  be 
done  in  the  house :  brought  wood,  pounded  the  rice,  did 
the  cooking,  brought  all  that  was  needed  for  washing  the 
face,  washed  the  feet. 

One  day  when  the  Great  Being  said  to  him,  "  My  son, 
bring  me  a  stool  to  support  my  feet,"  the  youth,  seeing  no 
other  way,  kept  the  Great  Teacher's  feet  on  his  own  thigh 
all  night.  When  at  a  later  season  the  Great  Being's  wife 
brought  forth  a  son,  he  did  all  the  service  that  has  to  be 
done  at  a  childbirth.  The  wife  said  one  day  to  the  Great 
Being: — "Husband,  this  lad,  well-born  though  he  is,  for 
the  charm's  sake  performs  menial  service  for  us.  Let  him 
have  the  charm,  whether  it  stays  with  him  or  no."  To  this 
he  agreed.  He  taught  him  the  charm,  and  spoke  after 
this  fashion:  "My  son,  'tis  a  priceless  charm;  and  you 
will  get  great  gain  and  honour  thereby.  But  when  the 
king,  or  his  great  minister,  shall  ask  you  who  was  your 
teacher,  do  not  conceal  my  name ;  for  if  you  are  ashamed 
that  a  low-caste  man  taught  you  the  charm,  and  say  your 


teacher  was  a  great  magnate  of  the  brahmins,  you  will 
have  no  fruit  of  the  charm."  "Why  should  I  hide  your 
name?"  quoth  the  lad.  "Whenever  I  am  asked,  I  shall 
say  it  is  you."  Then  he  saluted  his  teacher,  and  from  the 
low-caste  village  he  departed,  pondering  on  the  charm, 
and  in  due  time  came  to  Benares.  There  he  sold  mangoes, 
and  gained  much  wealth. 

Now  on  a  day  the  keeper  of  the  park  presented  to  the 
king  a  mango  which  he  had  bought  from  him.  The  king, 
having  eaten  it,  asked  whence  he  procured  so  fine  a  fruit. 
"My  lord,"  was  the  answer,  "there  is  a  young  man  who  brings 
mangoes  out  of  season,  and  sells  them :  from  him  I  pro- 
cured it."  "  Tell  him,"  says  the  king,  "  from  henceforth  to 
bring  the  mangoes  hither  to  me."  This  the  man  did ;  and 
from  that  time  the  young  man  took  his  mangoes  to  the 
king's  household.  The  king,  inviting  him  to  enter  his 
service,  he  became  a  servant  of  the  king;  and  gaining 
great  wealth,  by  degrees  he  grew  into  the  king's  con- 

One  day  the  king  asked  him,  and  said : — "  Young  man, 
where  do  you  get  these  mangoes  out  of  season,  so  sweet 
and  fragrant  and  of  fine  colour?  Does  some  naga  or 
garula  give  them  to  you,  or  a  god,  or  is  this  the  power  of 
magic?"  "No  one  gives  them  to  me,  O  mighty  king!" 
replied  the  young  man,  "but  I  have  a  priceless  charm, 
and  this  is  the  power  of  the  charm."  "Well  then  we 
should  like  to  see  the  power  of  the  charm  one  of  these 
days."  "  By  all  means,  my  lord,  I  will  shew  it,"  quoth  he. 
Next  day  the  king  went  with  him  into  the  park,  and  asked 
to  be  shewn  this  charm.  The  young  man  was  willing,  and 
approaching  a  mango  tree,  stood  at  a  distance  of  seven 
foot  from  it,  and  repeated  the  charm,  throwing  water 
against  the  tree.  On  the  instant  the  mango  tree  had 



fruit  in  the  manner  above  described :  a  shower  of  mangoes 
fell,  a  very  storm ;  the  company  shewed  great  delight, 
waving  their  kerchiefs ;  the  king  ate  of  the  fruit,  and  gave 
him  a  great  reward,  and  said,  "Young  man,  who  taught 
you  this  charm  so  marvellous  ? "  Now  thought  the  young 
man,  "If  I  say  a  low-caste  candala  taught  me,  I  shall  be  put 
to  shame,  and  they  will  flout  at  me ;  I  know  the  charm  by 
heart,  and  now  I  can  never  lose  it ;  well,  I  will  say  it  was  a 
world-renowned  teacher."  So  he  lied,  and  said,  "  I  learnt 
it  at  Takkasila,  from  a  teacher  renowned  the  wide  world 
over."  As  he  said  the  words,  denying  his  teacher,  that 
very  instant  the  charm  was  gone.  But  the  king,  greatly 
pleased,  returned  with  him  into  the  city. 

On  another  day  the  king  desired  mangoes  to  eat ;  and 
going  into  the  park,  and  taking  his  seat  upon  a  stone 
bench,  which  was  used  on  state  occasions,  he  bade  the 
youth  get  him  mangoes.  The  youth,  willing  enough,  went 
up  to  a  mango  tree,  and  standing  at  a  distance  of  seven 
foot  from  the  tree,  set  about  repeating  the  charm ;  but 
the  charm  would  not  come.  Then  he  knew  that  he  had 
lost  it,  and  stood  there  ashamed.  But  the  king  thought, 
"  Formerly  this  fellow  gave  me  mangoes  even  in  the  midst 
of  a  crowd,  and  like  a  heavy  shower  rained  the  fruit  down. 
Now  there  he  stands  like  a  stock :  what  can  the  reason 
be  ? "  Which  he  enquired  by  repeating  the  first  stanza : 

Young:  student,  when  I  asked  it  you  of  late, 

You  brought  me  mango  fruit  both  small  and  great: 

Now  no  fruit,  brahmin,  on  the  tree  appears, 
Thoug-h  the  same  charm  you  still  reiterate. 

When  he  heard  this,  the  young  man  thought  to  himself, 
if  he  should  say  this  day  no  fruit  was  to  be  had,  the  king 
would  be  wroth ;  wherefore  he  thought  to  deceive  him 
with  a  lie,  and  repeated  the  second  stanza: 


The  hour  and  moment  suit  not:  so  wait  I 
Fit  junction  of  the  planets  in  the  sky. 

The  due  conjunction  and  the  moment  come, 
Then  will  I  bring-  you  mangoes  plenteously. 

"What  is  this,"  the  king  wondered.  "The  fellow  said 
nothing  of  planetary  conjunctions  before ! "  To  resolve 
which  questions,  he  repeated  two  stanzas: 

You  said  no  word  of  times  and  seasons,  nor 
Of  planetary  junctions  heretofore: 

But  mangoes,  fragrant,  delicate  in  taste, 
Of  colour  fine,  you  brought  in  plenteous  store. 

Aforetime,  brahmin,  you  produced  so  well 
Fruit  on  the  tree  by  muttering'  of  your  spell : 
To-day  you  cannot,  mutter  as  you  may. 
What  means  this  conduct,  I  would  have  you  tell? 

Hearing  this,  the  youth  thought,  "  There  is  no  deceiving 
the  king  with  lies.  If,  when  the  truth  is  told,  he  punishes 
me,  let  him  punish  me :  but  the  truth  I  will  tell."  Then  he 
recited  two  stanzas : 

A  low-caste  man  my  teacher  was,  who  taught 
Duly  and  wTell  the  charm,  and  how  it  wrought: 

Saying,  "  If  you  are  asked  my  name  and  birth, 
Hide  nothing,  or  the  charm  will  come  to  nought." 

Asked  by  the  Lord  of  Men,  though  well  I  knew, 
Yet  in  deceit  I  said  what  was  not  true: 

"A  brahmin's  spells,"  I  lying  said;  and  now, 
Charm  lost,  my  folly  bitterly  I  rue. 

This  heard,  the  king   thought  within   himself,   "This 
sinful  man  took  no  care  of  such  a  treasure !    When  one 
has  a  treasure  so  priceless,  what  has  birth  to  do  with  it  ? 
And  in  anger  he  repeated  the  following  stanzas : 

Nimb,  castor  oil,  or  judas  tree,  whatever  be  the  tree 
"Where  he  who  seeks  finds  honeycombs,  'tis  best  of  trees,  thinks  he. 
Be  it  Khattiya,  Brahmin,  Vessa,  he  from  whom  a  man  learns  right— 
Sudda,  Candala,  Pukkusa — seems  chief est  in  his  sight1. 

1  These  are  the  names  of  six  castes :  Kshatriya,  Brahman,  Vais"ya,  Sudra,  the  four 
castes  familiar  in  Sanskrit  books,  together  with  two  Candala  and  Pukkasa,  both  mixed 

342  THE   LOST   CHARM 

Punish  the  worthless  churl,  or  even  slay, 
Hence  hale  him  by  the  throat  without  delay, 

Who  having  gained  a  treasure  with  great  toil, 
Throws  it  with  overweening  pride  away! 

The  king's  men  so  did,  saying,  "Go  back  to  your 
teacher,  and  win  his  forgiveness;  then,  if  you  can  learn 
the  charm  once  more,  you  may  come  hither  again,  but  if  not, 
never  more  may  you  set  eyes  on  this  country."  Thus  they 
banished  him. 

The  man  was  all  forlorn.  "  There  is  no  refuge  for  me," 
he  thought,  "except  my  teacher.  To  him  I  will  go,  and 
win  his  pardon,  and  learn  the  charm  again."  So  lamenting 
he  went  on  his  way  to  that  village.  The  Great  Being  per- 
ceived him  coming,  and  pointed  him  out  to  his  wife,  saying, 
"See,  lady,  there  comes  that  scoundrel  again,  with  his 
charm  lost  and  gone ! "  The  man  approached  the  Great 
Being,  and  greeted  him,  and  sat  on  one  side.  "  Why  are 
you  here  ? "  asked  the  other.  "  O  my  teacher ! "  the  man 
said,  "I  uttered  a  lie,  and  denied  my  teacher,  and  I  am 
utterly  ruined  and  undone  ! "  Then  he  recited  his  trans- 
gression in  a  stanza,  asking  again  for  the  charms : 

Oft  he  who  thinks  the  level  ground  is  lying  at  his  foot, 
Falls  in  a  pool,  pit,  precipice,  trips  on  a  rotten  root ; 
Another  treads  what  seems  a  cord,  a  jet-black  snake  to  find; 
Another  steps  into  the  fire  because  his  eyes  are  blind: 
So  I  have  sinned,  and  lost  my  spell;  but  you,  0  teacher  wise, 
Forgive !  and  let  me  once  again  find  favour  in  your  eyes ! 

Then  his  teacher  replied,  "What  say  you,  my  son  ?  Give 
but  a  sign  to  the  blind,  he  goes  clear  of  pools  and  what 

castes  and  much  despised.  More  about  these  castes,  and  the  Buddhist  system  as  con- 
trasted with  the  Brahuiinical,  may  be  seen  in  R.  Pick's  Sociale  Gtin/, '/•////</  i/ti  N.-O. 
Indien  zu  Biuldha's  Zcit,  Kiel,  1897.  Pick  denies  that  the  Suddas  were  ever  a  real 
caste  (p.  202).  For  Candala,  see  p.  203  ;  for  Pukkiisa,  p.  206  :  both,  in  his  opinion, 
non-Aryan  subject  races,  serfs  almost.  The  order  of  the  list  in  our  verse  should 
be  noticed.  The  Jataka  gives  the  Khattiyas,  or  Warriors,  precedence  over  the 
Brahmins.  (Dr  Rouse.) 


not ;  but  I  told  it  to  you  once,  and  what  do  you  want  here 
now  ? "     Then  he  repeated  the  following  stanzas : 

To  you  in  right  due  manner  I  did  tell, 
You  in  due  manner  rightly  learnt  the  spell, 

Full  willingly  its  nature  I  explained: 
Ne'er  had  it  left  you,  had  you  acted  well. 
Who  with  much  toil,  O  fool!  hath  learnt  a  spell 
Full  hard  for  those  who  now  in  this  world  dwell, 

Then,  foolish  one!  a  living-  gained  at  last, 
Throws  all  away,  because  he  lies  will  tell, 

To  such  a  fool,  unwise,  of  lying  fain, 
Ungrateful,  who  cannot  himself  restrain,— 

SpeUs,  quotha!  mighty  spells  we  give  not  him: 
Go  hence  away,  and  ask  me  not  again! 

Thus  dismissed  by  his  teacher,  the  man  thought,  "What 
is  life  to  me  ? "  and  plunging  into  the  woods,  died  forlorn. 

Variant  of  Tib.  T.  xx.  The  Magician's  Pupil. 



Once  upon  a  time,  in  the  kingdom  of  Kalinga,  and  in 
the  city  of  Dantapura,  reigned  a  king  named  Kalinga. 
He  had  two  sous,  named  Maha-Kalinga  and  Culla-Kalinga, 
Kalinga  the  Greater  and  the  Less.  Now  fortune-tellers 
had  foretold  that  the  eldest  son  would  reign  after  his 
father's  death;  but  that  the  youngest  would  live  as  an 
ascetic,  and  live  by  alms,  yet  his  son  would  be  an  universal 

Time  passed  by,  and  on  his  father's  death  the  eldest 
son  became  king,  the  youngest  viceroy.  The  youngest, 
ever  thinking  that  a  son  born  of  him  was  to  be  an 
universal  monarch,  grew  arrogant  on  that  account.  This 
the  king  could  not  brook,  so  sent  a  messenger  to  arrest 
Kalinga  the  Less.  The  man  came  and  said,  "  Prince,  the 


king  wishes  to  have  you  arrested,  so  save  your  life."  The 
prince  shewed  the  courtier  charged  with  this  mission  his 
own  signet  ring,  a  fine  rug,  and  his  sword:  these  three. 
Then  he  said,  "By  these  tokens1  you  shall  know  my  son, 
and  make  him  king.  With  these  words,  he  sped  away 
into  the  forest.  There  he  built  him  a  hut  in  a  pleasant 
place,  and  lived  as  an  ascetic  upon  the  bank  of  a  river. 

Now  in  the  kingdom  of  Madda,  and  in  the  city  of 
Sagala,  a  daughter  was  born  to  the  King  of  Madda.  Of 
the  girl,  as  of  the  prince,  fortune-tellers  foretold  that  she 
should  live  as  an  ascetic,  but  her  son  was  to  be  an 
universal  monarch.  The  Kings  of  India,  hearing  this 
rumour,  came  together  with  one  accord,  and  surrounded 
the  city.  The  king  thought  to  himself,  "Now,  if  I  give 
my  daughter  to  one,  all  the  other  kings  will  be  enraged. 
I  will  try  to  save  her."  So  with  wife  and  daughter  he  fled 
disguised  away  into  the  forest ;  and  after  building  him 
a  hut  some  distance  up  the  river,  above  the  hut  of  Prince 
Kalinga,  he  lived  there  as  an  ascetic,  eating  what  he  could 
pick  up. 

The  parents,  wishing  to  save  their  daughter,  left  her 
behind  in  the  hut,  and  went  out  to  gather  wild  fruits. 
While  they  were  gone  she  gathered  flowers  of  all  kinds, 
and  made  them  into  a  flower-wreath.  Now  on  the  bank 
of  the  Ganges  there  is  a  mango  tree  with  beautiful  flowers, 
which  forms  a  kind  of  natural  ladder.  Upon  this  she 
climbed,  and  playing  managed  to  drop  the  wreath  of 
flowers  into  the  water2. 

1  The  tokens  are  a  familiar  feature  of  folk-tales.     We  may  compare  the  story  of 
Theseus,  with  his  father's  sword  and  sandals  :  Pausanias,  i.  27.  8.     (Dr  Roxise.) 

2  Another  familiar  episode  in  folk-tales,  but  of  Protean  form.     It  is  commonly  a 
hair  of  the  lady's  head  that  falls.     See  Clouston,  Popular  Tales  and  Fictions,  I.  241 
(India),  251  (Egypt) ;  North  Indian  Notes  and  Queries,  n.  704 ;  Lai  Behari  Day, 
Folk  Tales  of  Bengal,  No.  4.     (Dr  Rouse.) 


One  day,  as  Prince  Kalinga  was  coming  out  of  the 
river  after  a  bath,  this  flower-wreath  caught  in  his  hair. 

He  looked  at  it,  and  said,  "Some  woman  made  this, 
and  no  full-grown  woman  but  a  tender  young  girl. 
I  must  make  search  for  her."  So  deeply  in  love  he 
journeyed  up  the  Ganges,  until  he  heard  her  singing  in 
a  sweet  voice,  as  she  sat  in  the  mango  tree.  He  ap- 
proached the  foot  of  the  tree,  and  seeing  her,  said,  "What 
are  you,  fair  lady  ? '  "I  am  human,  sir,"  she  replied. 
"  Come  down,  then,"  quoth  he.  "  Sir,  I  cannot ;  I  am  of 
the  warrior  caste."  "So  am  I  also,  lady:  come  down!" 
"No,  no,  sir,  that  I  cannot  do.  Saying  will  not  make 
a  warrior;  if  you  are  so,  tell  me  the  secrets  of  that 
caste."  Then  they  repeated  to  each  other  these  caste 
secrets.  And  the  princess  came  down,  and  they  were 
united  one  with  the  other. 

When  her  parents  returned  she  told  them  about  this 
son  of  the  King  of  Kalinga,  and  how  he  came  into  the 
forest,  in  all  detail.  They  consented  to  give  her  to  him. 
While  they  lived  together  in  happy  union,  the  princess 
conceived,  and  after  ten  months  brought  forth  a  son  with 
the  signs  of  good  luck  and  virtue ;  and  they  named  him 
Kalinga.  He  grew  up,  and  learnt  all  arts  and  accomplish- 
ments from  his  father  and  grandfather. 

At  length  his  father  knew  from  conjunctions  of  the 
stars  that  his  brother  was  dead.  So  he  called  his  son, 
and  said,  "My  son,  you  must  not  spend  your  life  in  the 
forest.  Your  father's  brother,  Kalinga  the  Greater,  is 
dead;  you  must  go  to  Dantapura,  and  receive  your 
hereditary  kingdom."  Then  he  gave  him  the  things  he 
had  brought  away  with  him,  signet,  rug,  and  sword,  saying, 
"My  son,  in  the  city  of  Dantapura,  in  such  a  street,  lives 
a  courtier  who  is  my  very  good  servant.  Descend  into  his 


house  and  enter  his  bedchamber,  and  shew  him  these 
three  things  and  tell  him  you  are  my  son.  He  will  place 
you  upon  the  throne." 

The  lad  bade  farewell  to  his  parents  and  grandparents; 
by  the  magic  power  of  his  virtue  he  passed  through  the 
air,  and  descending  into  the  house  of  that  courtier  entered 
his  bedchamber.  "Who  are  vou?"  asked  the  other.  "The 


son  of  Kalinga  the  Less,"  said  he,  disclosing  the  three 
tokens.  The  courtier  told  it  to  the  palace,  and  all  those 
of  the  court  decorated  the  city  and  spread  the  umbrella 
of  royalty  over  his  head.  Then  the  family  priest,  who 
was  named  Kalinga-bharadvaja,  taught  him  the  ten  cere- 
monies which  an  universal  monarch  has  to  perform,  and 
he  fulfilled  those  duties.  Then  on  the  fifteenth  day,  the 
fast-day,  came  to  him  from  Cakkadaha  the  precious 
Wheel  of  Empire,  from  the  Uposatha  stock  the  pre- 
cious Elephant,  from  the  royal  Valaha  breed  the  precious 
Horse,  from  Yepulla  the  precious  Jewel ;  and  the 
precious  wife,  retinue,  and  prince  made  their  appearance1. 
Then  he  achieved  sovereignty  in  the  whole  terrestrial 

One  day,  surrounded  by  a  company  which  covered 
six-and-thirty  leagues,  and  mounted  upon  an  elephant 
all  white,  tall  as  a  peak  of  Mount  Kelasa,  in  great  pomp 
and  splendour  he  went  to  visit  his  parents.  But  beyond 
the  circuit  around  the  great  bo-tree,  the  throne  of  victory 
of  all  the  Buddhas,  which  has  become  the  very  navel  of 
the  earth,  beyond  this  the  elephant  was  unable  to  pass : 
again  and  again  the  king  urged  him  on,  but  pass  he 
could  not. 

1  For  an  account  of  the  Cakkavatti  (universal  monarch),  and  the  miracles  at  his 
appearing,  consult  Hardy's  Manual,  126  ff.  See  also  Rhys  Davids  on  the  Questions 
Of  Milinda,  vol.  i.  p.  59  (he  renders  the  last  two  treasurer  and  adviser],  and 
Sudd/list  Suttas,  p.  257.  (Dr  Rouse.) 



Hereupon  the  king's  chaplain,  who  was  travelling  with 
the  king,  thought  to  himself,  "  In  the  air  is  no  hindrance ; 
why  cannot  the  king  make  his  elephant  go  on?  I  will 
go,  and  see."  Then,  descending  from  the  air,  he  beheld 
the  throne  of  victory  of  all  Buddhas,  the  navel  of  the 
earth,  that  circuit  around  the  great  bo-tree.  At  that 
time,  it  is  said,  for  the  space  of  a  royal  karlsa  was  never 
a  blade  of  grass,  not  so  big  as  a  hare's  whisker ;  it  seemed 
as  it  were  a  smooth-spread  sand  bright  like  a  silver  plate ; 
but  on  all  sides  were  grass,  creepers,  mighty  trees  like  the 
lords  of  the  forest,  as  though  standing  in  reverent  wise 
all  about  with  their  faces  turned  towards  the  throne  of 
the  bo-tree.  When  the  brahmin  beheld  this  spot  of 
earth,  "This,"  thought  he,  "is  the  place  where  all  the 
Buddhas  have  crushed  all  the  desires  of  the  flesh ;  and 
beyond  this  none  can  pass,  no  not  if  he  were  Sakka 
himself."  Then  approaching  the  king,  he  told  him  the 
quality  of  the  bo-tree  circuit,  and  bade  him  descend. 

Pierced  and  pierced  again  by  the  king,  this  elephant 
could  not  endure  the  pain,  and  so  died ;  but  the  king 
knew  not  he  was  dead,  and  sat  there  still  on  his  back. 
Then  Kalinga-bharadvaja  said,  "  O  great  king !  your 
elephant  is  dead ;  pass  on  to  another." 

By  the  magical  power  of  the  king's  virtue,  another 
beast  of  the  Uposatha  breed  appeared  and  offered  his 
back.  The  king  sat  on  his  back.  At  that  moment  the 
dead  elephant  fell  upon  the  earth. 

Thereupon  the  king  came  down  from  the  air,  and 
beholding  the  precinct  of  the  bo-tree,  and  the  miracle 
that  was  done,  he  praised  Bharadvaja,  saying, 

To  Kalinga-bharadvaja  king-  Kaliriga  thus  did  say: 

"All  thou  know'st  and  understandest,  and  thou  seest  all  alway." 

Now  the  brahmin  would  not  accept  this  praise;  but 


standing  in  his  own  humble  place,  he  extolled  the 
Buddhas,  and  praised  them. 

The  king,  hearing  the  virtues  of  the  Buddhas,  was 
delighted  in  heart ;  and  he  caused  all  the  dwellers  in  the 
world  to  bring  fragrant  wreaths  in  plenty,  and  for  seven 
days  he  made  them  do  worship  at  the  circuit  of  the  Great 

Having  in  this  manner  done  worship  to  the  Great 
Bo-tree,  he  visited  his  parents,  and  took  them  back  with 
him  again  to  Dantapura;  where  he  gave  alms  and  did 
good  deeds,  until  he  was  born  again  in  the  Heaven  of 
the  Thirty-Three. 

This  tale  is  said  to  have  been  told  by  the  Buddha  when  Ananda  caused  a  fruit  of 
the  great  bo-tree  to  be  plapted  at  the  Jetavana  monastery,  so  that  the  people  who 
wished  to  reverence  the  Buddha  might  place  their  offerings  there  when  he  was 


Once  upon  a  time,  when  Brahmadatta  was  king  of 
Benares,  his  family  priest  was  tawny-brown  and  had  lost 
all  his  teeth.  His  wife  committed  sin  with  another  brah- 
min. This  man  was  just  like  the  other.  The  priest  tried 
times  and  again  to  restrain  his  wife,  but  could  not.  Then 
he  thought,  "This  my  enemy  I  cannot  kill  with  my  own 
hands,  but  I  must  devise  some  plan  to  kill  him." 

So  he  came  before  the  king,  and  said,  "O  king,  your 
city  is  the  chiefest  city  of  all  India,  and  you  are  the  chiefest 
king :  but  chief  king  though  you  are,  your  southern  gate 
is  unlucky,  and  ill  put  together."  "Well  now,  my  teacher, 
what  is  to  be  done?"  "You  must  bring  good  luck  into  it 
and  set  it  right."  "What  is  to  be  done?"  "We  must  pull 
down  the  old  door,  get  new  and  lucky  timbers,  do  sacrifice 


to  the  spirits  that  guard  the  city,  and  set  up  the  new  on 
a  lucky  conjunction  of  the  stars."  "So  do,  then,"  said 
the  king. 

At  that  time,  the  Bodhisatta  was  a  young  man  named 
Takkariya,  who  was  studying  under  this  man. 

Now  the  priest  caused  the  old  gate  to  be  pulled  down, 
and  the  new  was  made  ready;  which  done,  he  went  and 
said  to  the  king,  "The  gate  is  ready,  my  lord:  to-morrow 
is  an  auspicious  conjunction ;  before  the  morrow  is  over, 
we  must  do  sacrifice  and  set  up  the  new  gate."  "Well,  my 
teacher,  and  what  is  necessary  for  the  rite?"  "My  lord,  a 
great  gate  is  possessed  and  guarded  by  great  divinities. 
A  brahmin,  tawny-brown  and  toothless,  of  pure  blood  on 
both  sides,  must  be  killed ;  his  flesh  and  blood  must  be 
offered  in  sacrifice,  and  his  body  laid  beneath,  and  the 
gate  raised  upon  it.  This  will  bring  luck  to  you  and 
your  city1."  "Very  well,  my  teacher,  have  such  a  brahmin 
slain,  and  set  up  the  gate  upon  him." 

The  priest  was  delighted.  "To-morrow,"  said  he,  "I 
shall  see  the  back  of  my  enemy!"  Full  of  energy  he 
returned  to  his  home,  but  could  not  keep  a  still  tongue 
in  his  head,  and  said  quickly  to  his  wife,  "  Ah,  you  foul 
hag,  whom  will  you  have  now  to  take  your  pleasure  with  ? 
To-morrow  I  shall  kill  your  leman  and  make  sacrifice  of 
him."  "Why  will  you  kill  an  innocent  man?"  "The  king 
has  commanded  me  to  slay  and  sacrifice  a  tawny-brown 

1  Human  sacrifice  at  the  founding  of  a  building,  or  the  like,  must  have  been  common 
in  ancient  times,  so  persistent  are  the  traditions  about  it.  For  India,  see  Crooke, 
Intr.  to  Pop.  Rel.  and  F.-L.  of  N.  India,  p.  237  and  Index.  When  the  Hooghly  Bridge 
was  built  in  Calcutta,  I  remember  how  it  was  commonly  said  by  the  natives  that  the 
builders  had  immured  many  young  children  in  the  foundations.  For  Greece  it  is 
attested  by  modern  folk-songs  such  as  the  Bridge  of  Arta  (Passow,  Carm.  Pop.  Gr. 
no.  512),  and  one  which  I  lately  wrote  down  in  Cos  from  oral  tradition  (published  in 
Folk-Lore  for  1899).  The  sacrifice  is  meant  to  propitiate  the  spirits  disturbed  by  the 
digging.  See  Robertson  Smith,  Religion  of  the  Semites,  p.  158.  (Dr  Rouse.) 


brahmin,  and  to  set  up  the  city  gate  upon  him.  Your 
leman  is  tawny-brown,  and  I  mean  to  slay  him  and  sacri- 
fice him."  She  sent  her  paramour  a  message,  saying, 
"  They  say  the  king  wishes  to  slay  a  tawny-brown  brahmin 
in  sacrifice ;  if  you  would  save  your  life,  flee  away  in  time, 
and  with  you  all  they  who  are  like  you."  So  the  man  did: 
the  news  spread  abroad  in  the  city,  and  all  those  in  the 
whole  city  who  were  tawny-brown  fled  away. 

The  priest,  nothing  aware  of  his  enemy's  flight,  went 
early  next  morning  to  the  king,  and  said,  "My  lord,  in 
such  a  place  is  a  tawny-brown  brahmin  to  be  found ;  have 
him  taken."  The  king  sent  some  men  for  him,  but  they 
saw  none,  and  returning  informed  the  king  that  he  was 
fled  away.  "  Search  elsewhere,"  said  the  king.  All  over 
the  city  they  searched,  but  found  none.  "  Search  quickly!" 
said  the  king.  "My  lord,"  they  replied,  "except  your 
family  priest  there  is  no  such  other."  "A  priest,"  quoth 
he,  "cannot  be  killed."  "What  do  you  say,  my  lord? 
According  to  the  priest,  if  the  gate  is  not  set  up  to-day, 
the  city  will  be  in  danger.  When  the  priest  explained 
the  matter,  he  said  that  if  we  let  this  day  go  by,  the 
auspicious  moment  will  not  come  again  until  the  end  of 
a  year.  The  city  without  a  gate  for  a  year,  what  a  chance 
for  our  enemies !  Let  us  kill  some  one,  and  sacrifice  by 
the  aid  of  some  other  wise  brahmin,  and  set  up  the  gate." 
"But  is  there  another  wise  brahmin  like  my  teacher?" 
"There  is,  my  lord,  his  pupil,  a  young  man  named 
Takkariya;  make  him  your  family  priest  and  do  the 
lucky  ceremony."  The  king  sent  for  him,  and  did  honour 
to  him,  and  made  him  priest,  and  commanded  to  do  as 
had  been  said.  The  young  man  went  to  the  gate  with 
a  great  crowd  following.  In  the  king's  name  they  bound 
and  brought  the  priest.  The  Great  Being  caused  a  pit  to 


be  dug  in  the  place  where  the  gate  was  to  be  set  up,  and 
a  tent  to  be  placed  over  it,  and  with  his  teacher  entered 
into  the  tent.  The  teacher  beholding  the  pit,  and  seeing 
no  escape,  said  to  the  Great  Being,  "My  aim  had  suc- 
ceeded. Fool  that  I  was,  I  could  not  keep  a  still  tongue, 
but  hastily  told  that  wicked  woman.  I  have  slain  myself 
with  my  own  weapon.  Then  he  recited  the  first  stanza : 

I  spoke  in  folly,  as  a  frog:  might  call 
Upon  a  snake  i'  the  forest:  so  I  fall 
Into  this  pit,  Takkariya1.  How  true, 
Words  spoken  out  of  season  one  must  rue! 

Then  the  other  addressing  him,  recited  this  stanza : 

The  man  who  out  of  season  speaks,  will  go 

Like  this  to  ruin,  lamentation,  woe: 

Here  you  should  blame  yourself,  now  you  must  have 

This  delved  pit,  my  teacher,  for  your  grave. 

To  these  words  he  added  yet  this:  "O  teacher,  not 
thou  only,  but  many  another  likewise,  has  come  to  misery 
because  he  set  not  a  watch  upon  his  words."  So  saying, 
he  told  him  a  story  of  the  past  to  prove  it. 

Once  upon  a  time,  they  say,  there  lived  a  courtesan 
in  Benares  named  Kali,  and  she  had  a  brother  named 
Tundila.  In  one  day  Kali  would  earn  a  thousand  pieces 
of  money.  Now  Tundila  was  a  debauchee,  a  drunkard,  a 
gambler ;  she  gave  him  money,  and  whatever  he  got  he 
wasted.  Do  what  she  would  to  restrain  him,  restrain  him 
she  could  not.  One  day  he  was  beaten  at  hazard,  and 
lost  the  very  clothes  he  was  clad  in.  Wrapping  about 
him  a  rag  of  loin-cloth,  he  repaired  to  his  sister's  house. 
But  command  had  been  given  by  her  to  her  serving- 
maids,  that  if  Tundila  should  come,  they  were  to  give 
him  nothing,  but  to  take  him  by  the  throat  and  cast  him 

1  The  name  here  is  feminine,  as  the  scholiast  notes  without  explanation. 


out.  And  so  they  did:  he  stood  by  the  threshold,  and 
made  his  moan.  Now  a  certain  gild-merchant's  son,  who 
used  constantly  to  give  Kali  a  thousand  pieces  of  money, 
on  that  day  happened  to  see  him,  and  says  he,  "  Why  are 
you  weeping,  Tundila?"  "Master,"  said  he,  "I  have  been 
beaten  at  the  dice,  and  came  to  my  sister ;  and  the  serv- 
ing-maids took  me  by  the  throat  and  cast  me  out." 
"  Well,  stay  here,"  quoth  the  other,  "  and  I  will  speak  to 
your  sister."  He  entered  the  house,  and  said,  "Your 
brother  stands  waiting,  clad  in  a  rag  of  loin-cloth.  Why 
do  you  not  give  him  something  to  wear?"  "Indeed,"  she 
replied,  "  I  will  give  nothing.  If  you  are  fond  of  him,  give 
it  vourself."  Now  in  that  house  of  ill  fame  the  fashion 


was  this :  out  of  every  thousand  pieces  of  money  received, 
five  hundred  were  for  the  woman,  five  hundred  were  the 
price  of  clothes,  perfumes  and  garlands;  the  men  who 
visited  that  house  received  garments  to  clothe  themselves 
in,  and  stayed  the  night  there,  then  on  the  next  day  they 
put  off"  the  garments  they  had  received,  and  put  on  those 
they  had  brought,  and  went  their  ways.  On  this  occasion 
the  merchant's  son  put  on  the  garments  provided  for  him, 
and  gave  his  own  clothes  to  Tundila.  He  put  them  on, 
and  with  loud  shouts  hastened  to  the  tavern.  But  Kali 
ordered  her  women  that  when  the  young  man  should 
depart  next  day,  they  should  take  away  his  clothes. 
Accordingly,  when  he  came  forth,  they  ran  up  from  this 
side  and  that,  like  so  many  robbers,  and  took  the  clothes 
from  him,  and  stript  him  naked,  saying,  "  Now,  young  sir, 
be  off!"  Thus  they  got  rid  of  him.  Away  he  went  naked: 
the  people  made  sport  of  him,  and  he  was  ashamed,  and 
lamented,  saying,  "  It  is  my  own  doing,  because  I  could 
not  keep  watch  over  my  lips!"  To  make  this  clear,  the 
Great  Being  recited  the  third  stanza: 


Why  ask  of  Tundila  how  he  should  fare 

At  Kalika  his  sister's  hands?  now  see! 
My  clothes  are  gone,  naked  am  I  and  bare ; 

'Tis  very  like  what  happened  late  to  thee. 

Another  person  relates  this  story.  By  carelessness  of 
the  goat-herds,  two  rams  fell  a-fighting  on  a  pasture  at 
Benares.  As  they  Avere  hard  at  it,  a  certain  bird,  a 
fork-tail,  thought  to  himself,  "  These  two  will  crack  their 
polls  and  perish ;  I  must  restrain  them."  So  he  tried  to 
restrain  them  by  calling  out — "Uncle,  don't  fight!"  Not 
a  word  he  got  from  them :  in  the  midst  of  the  battle, 
mounting  first  on  the  back,  then  on  the  head,  he  besought 
them  to  stop,  but  could  do  nothing.  At  last  he  cried, 
"Fight,  then,  but  kill  me  first!"  and  placed  himself 
between  the  two  heads.  They  went  on  butting  away  at 
each  other.  The  bird  was  crushed  as  by  a  pounder,  and 
came  to  destruction  by  his  own  act.  To  explain  this 
other  tale  the  Great  Being  repeated  the  fourth  stanza: 

Between  two  fighting-  rams  a  fork-tail  flew, 
Though  in  the  fray  he  had  no  part  nor  share. 
The  two  rams'  heads  did  crush  him  then  and  there. 
He  in  his  fate  was  very  like  to  you ! 

Another.  There  was  a  tal-tree  which  the  cow-herds 
set  great  store  by.  The  people  of  Benares  seeing  it  sent 
a  certain  man  up  the  tree  to  gather  fruit.  As  he  was 
throwing  down  the  fruit,  a  black  snake  issuing  forth  from 
an  ant-hill  began  to  ascend  the  tree;  they  who  stood 
below  tried  to  drive  him  off  striking  at  him  with  sticks 
and  other  things,  but  could  not.  Then  they  called  out  to 
the  other,  "A  snake  is  climbing  the  tree !"  and  he  in  terror 
uttered  a  loud  cry.  Those  who  stood  below  seized  a 
stout  cloth  by  the  four  corners,  and  bade  him  fall  into 
the  cloth.  He  let  himself  drop,  and  fell  in  the  midst  of 
the  cloth  between  the  four  of  them ;  swift  as  the  wind  he 

F.  &  T.  23 


came,  and  the  men  could  not  hold  him,  but  j oiled  their 
four  heads  together  and  broke  them,  and  so  died.  To 
explain  this  story  the  Great  Being  recited  the  fifth 
stanza : 

Four  men,  to  save  a  fellow  from  his  fate, 

Held  the  four  corners  of  a  cloth  below. 
They  all  fell  dead,  each  with  a  broken  pate. 

These  men  were  very  like  to  you,  I  trow. 

Others  again  tell  this.  Some  goat-thieves  who  lived  at 
Benares  having  stolen  a  she-goat  one  night,  determined  to 
make  a  meal  in  the  forest :  to  prevent  her  bleating  they 
muffled  her  snout  and  tied  her  up  in  a  bamboo  clump. 
Next  day,  on  their  way  to  kill  her,  they  forgot  the  chopper. 
"Now  we'll  kill  the  goat  and  cook  her,"  said  they;  "bring 
the  chopper  here ! "  But  nobody  had  one.  "  Without  a 
chopper,"  said  they,  "we  cannot  eat  the  beast,  even  if 
we  kill  her :  let  her  go  !  this  is  due  to  some  merit  of  hers." 
So  they  let  her  go.  Now  it  happened  that  a  worker  in 
bamboos,  who  had  been  there  for  a  bundle  of  them,  left 
a  basket-maker's  knife  there  hidden  among  the  leaves, 
intending  to  use  it  when  he  came  again.  But  the  goat, 
thinking  herself  to  be  free,  began  playing  about  under 
the  bamboo  clump,  and  kicking  with  her  hind  legs  made 
the  knife  drop.  The  thieves  heard  the  sound  of  the 
falling  knife,  and  on  coming  to  find  out  what  it  was,  saw 
it,  to  their  great  delight ;  then  they  killed  the  goat,  and 
ate  her  flesh.  Thus  to  explain  how  this  she-goat  was 
killed  by  her  own  act,  the  Great  Being  recited  the  sixth 
stanza : 

A  she-goat,  in  a  bamboo  thicket  bound, 
Frisking-  about,  herself  a  knife  had  found. 
With  that  same  knife  they  cut  the  creature's  throat. 
It  strikes  me  you  are  very  like  that  goat. 


After  recounting  this,  he  explained,  "  But  they  who  are 
moderate  of  speech,  by  watching  their  words  have  often 
been  freed  from  the  fate  of  death,"  and  then  told  a  story 
of  fairies. 

A  hunter,  we  are  told,  who  lived  in  Benares,  being 
once  in  the  region  of  Himalaya,  by  some  means  or  other 
captured  a  brace  of  supernatural  beings,  a  fairy  and 
her  husband;  and  them  he  took  and  presented  to  the 
king.  The  king  had  never  seen  such  beings  before. 
"Hunter,"  quoth  he,  "what  kind  of  creatures  are  these?" 
Said  the  man, "  My  lord,  these  can  sing  with  a  honey-voice, 
they  dance  delightfully:  no  men  are  able  to  dance  or  sing 
as  they  can."  The  king  bestowed  a  great  reward  on  the 
hunter,  and  commanded  the  fairies  to  sing  and  dance.  But 
they  thought,  "If  we  are  not  able  to  convey  the  full  sense  of 
our  song,  the  song  will  be  a  failure,  they  will  abuse  and  hurt 
us;  and  then  again,  those  who  speak  much  speak  falsely": 
so  for  fear  of  some  falsehood  or  other  they  neither  sang 
nor  danced,  for  all  the  king  begged  them  again  and  again. 
At  last  the  king  grew  angry,  and  said,  "Kill  these  creatures, 
and  cook  them,  and  serve  them  up  to  me."  This  com- 
mand he  delivered  in  the  words  of  the  seventh  stanza: 

No  gods  are  these  nor  heaven's  musicianers, 
Beasts  brought  by  one  who  fain  would  fill  his  purse. 
So  for  my  supper  let  them  cook  me  one, 
And  one  for  breakfast  by  the  morrow's  sun. 

Then  the  fairy-dame  thought  to  herself,  "Now  the 
king  is  angry;  without  doubt  he  will  kill  us.  Now  it  is 
time  to  speak."  And  immediately  she  recited  a  stanza: 

A  hundred  thousand  ditties  all  sung  wrong 
All  are  not  worth  a  tithe  of  one  good  song. 
To  sing  ill  is  a  crime;  and  this  is  why 
(Not  out  of  folly)  fairy  would  not  try. 



The  king,  pleased  with  the  fairy,  at  once  recited  a 
stanza : 

She  that  hath  spoken,  let  her  go,  that  she 
The  Himalaya  hill  again  may  see, 
But  let  them  take  and  kill  the  other  one, 
And  for  to-morrow's  breakfast  have  him  done. 

But  the  other  fairy  thought,  "If  I  hold  my  tongue, 
surely  the  king  will  kill  me;  now  is  the  time  to  speak"; 
and  then  he  recited  another  stanza : 

The  kine  depend  upon  the  clouds l,  and  men  upon  the  kine, 
And  I,  0  king!  depend  on  thee,  on  me  this  wife  of J  mine. 
Let  one,  before  he  seek  the  hills,  the  other's  fate  divine. 

When  he  had  said  this,  he  repeated  a  couple  of 
stanzas,  to  make  it  clear,  that  they  had  been  silent  not 
from  unwillingness  to  obey  the  king's  word,  but  because 
they  saw  that  speaking  would  be  a  mistake. 

0  monarch!  other  peoples,  other  ways: 

'Tis  very  hard  to  keep  you  clear  of  blame. 
The  very  thing  which  for  the  one  wins  praise, 

Another  finds  reproof  for  just  the  same. 
Some  one  there  is  who  each  man  foolish  finds; 

Each  by  imagination  different  still; 
All  different,  many  men  and  many  minds, 

No  universal  law  is  one  man's  will. 

Quoth  the  king,  "  He  speaks  the  truth ;  'tis  a  sapient 
fairy";  and  much  pleased  he  recited  the  last  stanza: 

Silent  they  were,  the  fairy  and  his  mate: 
And  he  who  now  did  utter  speech  for  fear, 

Unhurt,  free,  happy,  let  him  go  his  gait. 
This  is  the  speech  brings  good,  as  oft  we  hear. 

Then  the  king  placed  the  two  fairies  in  a  golden  cage, 
and  sending  for  the  huntsman,  made  him  set  them  free  in 
the  same  place  where  he  had  caught  them. 

1  Because  their  food  (grass  etc.)  depends  on  rain. 


The  Great  Being  added,  "See,  my  teacher!  In  this 
manner  the  fairies  kept  watch  on  their  words,  and  by 
speaking  at  the  right  time  were  set  free  for  their  well 
speaking;  but  you  by  your  ill  speaking  have  come  to 
great  misery."  Then  after  shewing  him  this  parallel,  he 
comforted  him,  saying,  "  Fear  not,  my  teacher ;  I  will  save 
your  life."  "Is  there  indeed  a  way,"  asked  the  other, 
"how  you  can  save  me?"  He  replied,  "It  is  not  yet  the 
proper  conjunction  of  the  planets."  He  let  the  day  go 
by,  and  in  the  middle  watch  of  the  night  brought  thither 
a  dead  goat.  "Go  when  you  will,  brahmin,  and  live,"  said 
he,  then  let  him  go  and  never  a  soul  the  wiser.  And  he 
did  sacrifice  with  the  flesh  of  the  goat,  and  set  up  the  gate 
upon  it. 

The  second  story  is  a  variant  of  P.  (T.)  i.  3  b,  where  a  jackal  hoping  for  flesh 
comes  between  two  fighting  rams  and  is  killed.  K.  D.  (Syr.)  i.  3  6,  (Arab.)  v.  Of.  the 
gathas  of  the  tale  in  Julien  33  (variant  of  Jat.  404),  "Lorsque  deux  beliers  luttent 
ensemble,  les  mouches  et  les  fourmis  perissent  au  milieu  d'eux,"  and  J.  Grimm  on 
Reinhart  Fuchs,  p.  cclxxvi.  The  story  of  the  she-goat  occurs  in  Zenobius,  Prov. 
Cent.  i.  27,  as  an  explanation  of  the  proverb  at|  TT/V  /xa^aipai/.  A  goat  being 
sacrificed  by  the  Corinthians  to  Acraean  Hera  kicks  and  reveals  the  knife,  which  had 
been  mislaid.  See  Pischel  in  ZDMG.  XLVII.  86. 


Once  upon  a  time,  when  Brahmadatta  was  king  of 
Benares,  certain  men  of  the  marches  used  to  make  a 
settlement,  wheresoever  they  could  best  find  much  meat, 
dwelling  in  the  forest,  and  killing  for  meat  for  themselves 
and  their  families  the  game  which  abounded  there.  Not 
far  from  their  village  was  a  large  natural  lake,  and  upon 
its  southward  shore  lived  a  Hawk,  on  the  west  a  she-hawk ; 
on  the  north  a  Lion,  king  of  the  beasts ;  on  the  east  an 


Osprey,  king  of  the  birds ;  in  the  middle  dwelt  a  Tortoise 
on  a  small  island.  The  Hawk  asked  the  she-hawk  to 
become  his  wife.  She  asked  him,  "  Have  you  any  friend  ? " 
"  No,  madam,"  he  replied.  "  We  must  have  some  one  who 
can  defend  us  against  any  danger  or  trouble  that  may 
arise,  and  you  must  find  some  friends."  "Whom  shall 
I  make  friends  with  ? "  "  Why,  with  king  Osprey  who  lives 
on  the  eastern  shore,  and  with  the  Lion  on  the  north,  and 
with  the  Tortoise  who  dwells  in  the  middle  of  this  lake." 
He  took  her  advice  and  did  so.  Then  the  two  lived 
together  (it  should  be  said  that  on  a  little  islet  in  the 
same  lake  grew  a  kadamba  tree,  surrounded  by  the  water 
on  all  sides)  in  a  nest  which  they  made. 

Afterwards  there  were  given  to  them  two  sons.  One 
day,  while  the  wings  of  the  younglings  were  yet  callow, 
some  of  the  country  folk  went  foraging  through  the  woods 
all  day  and  found  nothing.  Not  wishing  to  return  home 
empty-handed,  they  went  down  to  the  lake  to  catch  a  fish 
or  a  tortoise.  They  got  on  the  island,  and  lay  down 
beneath  the  kadamba  tree;  and  there  being  tormented 
by  the  bites  of  gnats  and  mosquitoes,  to  drive  these  away, 
they  kindled  a  fire  by  rubbing  sticks  together,  and  made 
a  smoke.  The  smoke  rising  annoyed  the  birds,  and  the 
young  ones  uttered  a  cry.  "  'Tis  the  cry  of  birds ! "  said 
the  country  folk.  "  Up,  make  up  the  fire :  we  cannot  lie 
here  hungry,  but  before  we  lie  down  we  will  have  a  meal 
of  fowls'  flesh."  They  made  the  fire  blaze,  and  built  it  up. 
But  the  mother  bird  hearing  the  sound,  thought,  "  These 
men  wish  to  eat  our  young  ones.  We  made  friends  to 
save  us  from  that  danger.  I  will  send  my  mate  to  the 
great  Osprey."  Then  she  said,  "  Go,  my  husband,  tell 
the  Osprey  of  the  danger  which  threatens  our  young" 
repeating  this  stanza: 


The  country  churls  build  fires  upon  the  isle, 
To  eat  my  young  ones  in  a  little  while : 
0  Hawk!  to  friend  and  comrade  give  the  word, 
My  children's  danger  tell  to  every  bird! 

The  cock-bird  flew  at  all  speed  to  the  place,  and  gave 
a  cry  to  announce  his  arrival.  Leave  given,  he  came  near 
to  the  Osprey,  and  made  his  greeting.  "  Why  have  you 
come?"  asked  the  Osprey.  Then  the  cock  repeated  the 
second  stanza: 

0  winged  fowl!  chiefest  of  birds  art  thou: 
So,  Osprey  king,  I  seek  thy  shelter  now. 
Some  country-folk  a-hunting  now  are  fain 
To  eat  my  young:  be  thou  my  joy  again! 

"Fear  not,"  said  the  Osprey  to  the  Hawk,  and  consoling 
him  he  repeated  the  third  stanza : 

In  season,  out  of  season,  wise  men  make 
Both  friends  and  comrades  for  protection's  sake : 
For  thee,  0  Hawk!  I  will  perform  this  deed; 
The  good  must  help  each  other  at  their  need. 

Then  he  went  on  to  ask,  "  Have  the  churls  climbed  up 
the  tree,  my  friend  ? "  "  They  are  not  climbing  yet ;  they 
are  just  piling  wood  on  the  fire."  "Then  you  had  better 
go  quickly  and  comfort  my  friend  your  mate,  and  say 
I  am  coming."  He  did  so.  The  Osprey  went  also,  and 
from  a  place  near  to  the  kadamba  tree  he  watched  for 
the  men  to  climb,  sitting  upon  a  tree-top.  Just  as  one 
of  the  boors  who  was  climbing  the  tree  had  come  near 
to  the  nest,  the  Osprey  dived  into  the  lake,  and  from 
wings  and  beak  sprinkled  water  over  the  burning  brands, 
so  that  they  were  put  out.  Down  came  the  men,  and 
made  another  fire  to  cook  the  bird  and  its  young ;  when 
they  climbed  again,  once  more  the  Osprey  demolished  the 
fire.  So  whenever  a  fire  was  made,  the  bird  put  it  out, 
and  midnight  came.  The  bird  was  much  distressed :  the 


skin  under  his  stomach  had  become  quite  thin,  his  eyes 
were  blood-shot.  Seeing  him,  the  hen-bird  said  to  her 
mate,  "  My  lord,  the  Osprey  is  tired  out ;  go  and  tell  the 
Tortoise,  that  he  may  have  a  rest."  When  he  heard 
this,  the  bird  approaching  the  Osprey,  addressed  him  in 
a  stanza: 

Good  help  the  good:  the  necessary  deed 
Thou  hast  in  pity  done  for  us  at  need. 
Our  young  are  safe,  thou  living:  have  a  care 
Of  thy  own  self,  nor  all  thy  strength  outwear. 

On  hearing  these  words,  loud  as  a  lion's  roar  he 
repeated  the  fifth  stanza : 

While  I  am  keeping  guard  about  this  tree, 
I  care  not  if  I  lose  my  life  for  thee: 
So  use  the  good:  thus  friend  will  do  for  friend: 
Yea,  even  if  he  perish  at  the  end. 

Then  the  Hawk  said,  "Rest  awhile,  friend  Osprey," 
and  then  away  to  the  Tortoise,  whom  he  aroused.  "  What 
is  your  errand,  friend  ? "  asked  the  Tortoise. — "  Such  and 
such  a  danger  has  come  upon  us,  and  the  royal  Osprey 
has  been  labouring  hard  ever  since  the  first  watch,  and  is 
very  weary ;  that  is  why  I  have  come  to  you."  With  these 
words  he  repeated  the  seventh  stanza : 

Even  they  who  fall  through  sin  or  evil  deed 
May  rise  if  friends  will  help  them  in  their  need. 
My  young  in  danger,  straight  I  fly  to  thee: 
0  dweller  in  the  lake,  come,  succour  me! 

On  hearing  this  the  Tortoise  repeated  another  stanza : 

The  wise  man  to  a  man  who  is  his  friend, 
Both  food  and  goods,  even  life  itself,  will  lend. 
For  thee,  0  Hawk!  I  will  perform  this  deed: 
The  good  must  help  each  other  at  their  need. 

His  son,  who  lay  not  far  off,  hearing  the  words  of  his 
father,  thought,  "I  would  not  have  my  father  troubled, 


but  I  will  do  my  father's  part,"  and  therefore  he  repeated 
the  ninth  stanza : 

Here  at  thy  ease  remain,  0  father  mine, 
And  I  thy  son  will  do  this  task  of  thine. 
A  son  should  serve  a  father,  so  'tis  best; 
I'll  save  the  Hawk  his  young-  ones  in  the  nest. 

The  father  Tortoise  addressed  his  son  in  a  stanza : 

So  do  the  good,  niy  son,  and  it  is  true 

That  son  for  father  service  ought  to  do. 

Yet  they  may  leave  the  Hawk's  young'  brood  alone, 

Perchance,  if  they  see  me  so  fully  grown. 

With  these  words  the  Tortoise  sent  the  Hawk  away, 
adding,  "Fear  not,  my  friend,  but  go  you  before  and 
I  will  come  presently  after."  He  dived  into  the  water, 
collected  some  mud,  and  went  to  the  island,  quenched  the 
flame,  and  lay  still.  Then  the  countrymen  cried,  "  Why 
should  we  trouble  about  the  young  hawks?  Let  us  roll 
over  this  one-eyed  Tortoise,  and  kill  him!  He  will  be 
enough  for  all."  So  they  plucked  some  creepers  and 
got  some  strings,  but  when  they  had  made  them  fast  in 
this  place  or  that,  and  torn  their  clothes  to  strips  for  the 
purpose,  they  could  not  roll  the  Tortoise  over.  The 
Tortoise  lugged  them  along  with  him  and  plunged  in 
deep  water.  The  men  were  so  eager  to  get  him  that  in 
they  fell  after:  splashed  about,  and  scrambled  out  with 
a  bellyful  of  water.  "  Just  look,"  said  they  :  "  half  the 
night  one  Osprey  kept  putting  out  our  fire,  and  now  this 
Tortoise  has  made  us  fall  into  the  water,  and  swallow  it, 
to  our  great  discomfort.  Well,  we  will  light  another  fire, 
and  at  sunrise  we  will  eat  those  young  hawks."  Then 
they  began  to  make  a  fire.  The  hen-bird  heard  the 
noise  they  were  making,  and  said,  "My  husband,  sooner 
or  later  these  men  will  devour  our  young  and  depart : 
you  go  and  tell  our  friend  the  Lion."  At  once  he  went 


to  the  Lion,  who  asked  him  why  he  came  at  such  an 
unseasonable  hour.  The  bird  told  him  all  from  the  be- 
ginning, and  repeated  the  eleventh  stanza: 

Mightiest  of  all  the  beasts,  both  beasts  and  men 
Fly  to  the  strongest  when  beset  with  fear. 

My  young  ones  are  in  danger;  help  ine  then: 
Thou  art  our  king,  and  therefore  I  am  here. 

This  said,  the  Lion  repeated  a  stanza : 

Yes,  I  will  do  this  service,  Hawk,  for  thee: 
Come,  let  us  go  and  slay  this  gang  of  foes! 
Surely  the  prudent,  he  who  wisdom  knows, 

Protector  of  a  friend  must  try  to  be. 

Having  thus  spoken,  he  dismissed  him,  saying,  "Now 
go,  and  comfort  your  young  ones."  Then  he  went 
forward,  churning  up  the  crystal  water.  When  the 
churls  perceived  him  approaching,  they  were  frightened 
to  death:  "The  Osprey,"  they  cried,  "put  out  our  fire- 
brands; the  Tortoise  made  us  lose  the  clothes  we  had 
on:  but  now  we  are  done  for.  This  Lion  will  destroy 
us  at  once."  They  ran  this  way  and  that :  when  the  Lion 
came  to  the  foot  of  the  tree,  nothing  could  he  see.  Then 
the  Osprey,  the  Hawk,  and  the  Tortoise  came  up,  and 
accosted  him.  He  told  them  the  profitableness  of  friend- 
ship, and  said,  "From  this  time  forth  be  careful  never 
to  break  the  bonds  of  friendship."  With  this  advice  he 
departed :  and  they  also  went  each  to  his  own  place. 
The  hen-hawk  looking  upon  her  young,  thought—"  Ah, 
through  friends  have  my  young  been  given  back  to  me !" 
and  as  she  rejoiced,  she  spoke  to  her  mate,  and  recited 
six  stanzas  declaring  the  effect  of  friendship : 

Get  friends,  a  houseful  of  them  without  fail, 
Get  a  great  friend:  a  blessing  he'll  be  found: 

Vain  strike  the  arrows  on  a  coat  of  mail. 
And  we  rejoice,  our  younglings  safe  and  sound. 


Through  the  kind  help  of  their  own  friend,  who  stayed  to  take 

their  part, 
The  old  birds  chirp,  the  young-  reply,  with  notes  that  charm  the 


The  wise  asks  help  at  friend's  or  comrade's  hand, 
Lives  happy  with  his  goods  and  brood  of  kind: 

So  I,  my  mate,  and  young,  together  stand, 
Because  our  friend  to  pity  was  inclined. 

A  man  needs  king  and  warriors  for  protection: 
And  these  are  his  whose  friendship  is  perfection: 
Thou  cravest  happiness :  he  is  famed  and  strong ; 
He  surely  prospers  to  whom  friends  belong. 

Even  by  the  poor  and  weak,  0  Hawk,  good  friends  must  needs 

be  found: 
By  a  friend's  kindness  we  and  ours,  behold,  are  safe  and  sound. 

The  bird  who  wins  a  hero  strong  to  play  a  friendly  part, 
As  thou  and  I  are  happy,  Hawk,  is  happy  in  his  heart. 

So  she  declared  the  quality  of  friendship  in  six  stanzas. 
And  all  this  company  of  friends  lived  all  their  lives  long 
without  breaking  the  bond  of  friendship,  and  then  passed 
away  according  to  their  deeds. 

Cf.  friendship  among  animals  in  Jat.  206,  357. 


Once  upon  a  time,  there  reigned  a  king  Suruci  in 
Mithila.  This  king,  having  a  son  born  to  him,  gave  him 
the  name  of  Suruci-Kumara,  or  Prince  Splendid.  When 
he  grew  up,  he  determined  to  study  at  Takkasila ;  so 
thither  he  went,  and  sat  down  in  a  hall  at  the  city  gate. 
Now  the  son  of  the  king  of  Benares  also,  whose  name  was 
Prince  Brahmadatta,  went  to  the  same  place,  and  took 
his  seat  on  the  same  bench  where  Prince  Suruci  sat. 
They  entered  into  converse  together,  and  became  friends, 


and  went  both  together  to  the  teacher.  They  paid  the 
fee,  and  studied,  and  ere  long  their  education  was  com- 
plete. Then  they  took  leave  of  their  teacher,  and  went 
on  their  road  together.  After  travelling  thus  a  short 
distance,  they  came  to  a  stop  at  a  place  where  the  road 
parted.  Then  they  embraced,  and  in  order  to  keep  their 
friendship  alive  they  made  a  compact  together:  "If 
I  have  a  son  and  you  a  daughter,  or  if  you  have  a  son 
and  I  a  daughter,  we  will  make  a  match  of  it  between 

When  they  were  on  the  throne,  a  son  was  born  to  king 
Suruci,  and  to  him  also  the  name  of  Prince  Suruci  was 
given.  Brahmadatta  had  a  daughter,  and  her  name  was 
Sumedha,  the  Wise  Lady.  Prince  Suruci  in  due  time 
grew  up,  went  to  Takkasila  for  his  education,  and  that 
finished  returned.  Then  his  father,  wishing  to  mark  out 
his  son  for  king  by  ceremonial  sprinkling,  thought  to 
himself,  "  My  friend  the  king  of  Benares  has  a  daughter 
so  they  say :  I  will  make  her  my  son's  consort."  For  this 
purpose  he  sent  an  ambassade  with  rich  gifts. 

But  before  they  had  yet  come,  the  king  of  Benares 
asked  his  queen  this  question :  "  Lady,  what  is  the  worse 
misery  for  a  woman  ? "  "  To  quarrel  with  her  fellow- 
wives."  "Then,  my  lady,  to  save  our  only  daughter  the 
Princess  Sumedha  from  this  misery,  we  will  give  her  to 
none  but  him  that  will  have  her  and  no  other."  So  when 
the  ambassadors  came,  and  named  the  name  of  his 
daughter,  he  told  them,  "  Good  friends,  indeed  it  is  true 
I  promised  my  daughter  to  my  old  friend  long  ago.  But 
we  have  no  wish  to  cast  her  into  the  midst  of  a  crowd 
of  women,  and  we  will  give  her  only  to  one  who  will  wed 
her  and  no  other."  This  message  they  brought  back  to 
the  king.  But  the  king  was  displeased.  "Ours  is  a 


great  kingdom,"  said  he,  "  the  city  of  Mithila  covers  seven 
leagues,  the  measure  of  the  whole  kingdom  is  three 
hundred  leagues.  Such  a  king  should  have  sixteen 
thousand  women  at  the  least."  But  Prince  Suruci, 
hearing  the  great  beauty  of  Sumedha,  fell  in  love  from 
hearing  of  it  only.  So  he  sent  word  to  his  parents,  saying, 
"  I  will  take  her  and  no  other :  what  do  I  want  with 
a  multitude  of  women  ?  Let  her  be  brought."  They  did 
not  thwart  his  desire,  but  sent  a  rich  present  and  a  great 
ambassade  to  bring  her  home.  Then  she  was  made  his 
queen-consort,  and  they  were  both  together  consecrated 
by  sprinkling. 

He  became  king  Suruci,  and  ruling  in  justice  lived 
a  life  of  high  happiness  with  his  queen.  But  although 
she  dwelt  in  his  palace  for  ten  thousand  years,  never  son 
nor  daughter  she  had  of  him. 

Then  all  the  townsfolk  gathered  together  in  the  palace 
courtyard,  with  upbraidings.  "  What  is  it  ? "  the  king 
asked.  "  Fault  we  have  no  other  to  find,"  said  they,  "  but 
this,  that  you  have  no  son  to  keep  up  your  line.  You 
have  but  one  queen,  yet  a  royal  prince  should  have 
sixteen  thousand  at  the  least.  Choose  a  company  of  women, 
my  lord :  some  worthy  wife  will  bring  you  a  son."  "  Dear 
friends,  what  is  this  you  say  ?  I  passed  my  word  I  would 
take  no  other  but  one,  and  on  those  terms  I  got  her. 
I  cannot  lie,  no  host  of  women  for  me."  So  he  refused 
their  request,  and  they  departed.  But  Sumedha  heard 
what  was  said.  "The  king  refuses  to  choose  him  other 
wives  for  his  truth's  sake,"  thought  she ;  "  well,  I  will  find 
him  some  one."  Playing  the  part  of  mother  and  wife 
to  the  king,  she  chose  at  her  own  will  a  thousand  maidens 
of  the  warrior  caste,  a  thousand  of  the  courtiers,  a 
thousand  daughters  of  householders,  a  thousand  of  all 


kinds  of  dancing  girls,  four  thousand  in  all,  and  delivered 
them  to  him.  And  all  these  dwelt  in  the  palace  for  ten 
thousand  years,  and  never  a  son  or  daughter  they  brought 
between  them.  In  this  way  she  three  times  brought  four 
thousand  maidens,  but  they  had  neither  son  nor  daughter. 
Thus  she  brought  him  sixteen  thousand  wives  in  all. 
Forty  thousand  years  went  by,  that  is  to  say,  fifty 
thousand  in  all,  counting  the  ten  thousand  he  had  lived  with 
her  alone.  Then  the  townsfolk  a^ain  Gathered  together 

o  o  o 

with  reproaches.  "  What  is  it  now  ? "  the  king  asked. 
"My  lord,  command  your  women  to  pray  for  a  son." 
The  king  was  not  unwilling,  and  commanded  so  to  pray. 
Thenceforward  praying  for  a  son,  they  worship  all 
manner  of  deities  and  offer  all  kinds  of  vows;  yet  no 
son  appeared.  Then  the  king  commanded  Sumedha  to 
pray  for  a  son.  She  consented.  On  the  fast  of  the 
fifteenth  day  of  the  month,  she  took  upon  her  the  eight- 
fold sabbath  vows1,  and  sat  meditating  upon  the  virtues 
in  a  magnificent  room  upon  a  pleasant  couch.  The 
others  were  in  the  park,  vowing  to  do  sacrifice  with 
goats  or  kine.  By  the  glory  of  Sumedha's  virtue  Sakka's 
dwelling  place  began  to  tremble.  Sakka  pondered,  and 
understood  that  Sumedha  prayed  for  a  son;  well,  she 
should  have  one.  "  But  I  cannot  give  her  this  or  that 
son  indifferently;  I  will  search  for  one  which  shall  be 
suitable."  Then  he  saw  a  young  god  called  Nalakara, 
the  Basket-weaver.  He  was  a  being  endowed  with  merit, 
who  in  a  former  life  lived  in  Benares,  when  this  befell  him. 
At  seed-time  as  he  was  on  his  way  to  the  fields  he  per- 
ceived a  Pacceka  Buddha2.  He  sent  on  his  hinds,  bidding 

1  The  eight  sUani :  against  taking  life,  theft,  impurity,  lying,  intoxicating  liquors, 
eating  at  forbidden  hours,  worldly  amusements,  unguents  and  ornaments.     The  first 
five  are  always  binding  on  lay-disciples.     The  others  are  assumed  on  the  fast-days. 

2  One  who  has  attained  the  enlightenment  of  a  Buddha,  but  does  not  preach. 


them  sow  the  seed,  but  himself  turned  back,  and  led  the 
Pacceka  Buddha  home,  and  gave  him  to  eat,  and  then 
conducted  him  again  to  the  Ganges  bank.  He  and  his  son 
together  made  a  hut,  trunks  of  fig-trees  for  the  foundation 
and  reeds  interwoven  for  the  walls;  a  door  he  put  to  it, 
and  made  a  path  for  walking.  There  for  three  months 
he  made  the  Pacceka  Buddha  dwell ;  and  after  the  rains 
were  over,  the  two  of  them,  father  and  son,  put  on  him 
the  three  robes  and  let  him  go.  In  the  same  manner 
they  entertained  seven  Pacceka  Buddhas  in  that  hut,  and 
gave  them  the  three  robes,  and  let  them  go  their  ways. 
So  men  still  tell  how  these  two,  father  and  son,  turned 
basket-weavers,  and  hunted  for  osiers  on  the  banks  of  the 
Ganges,  and  whenever  they  spied  a  Pacceka  Buddha  did 
as  we  have  said.  When  they  died,  they  were  born  in  the 
heaven  of  the  Thirty-Three,  and  dwelt  in  the  six  heavens 
of  sense  one  after  the  other  in  direct  and  in  reverse 
succession,  enjoying  great  majesty  among  the  gods. 
These  two  after  dying  in  that  region  were  desirous  of 
winning  to  the  upper  god-world.  Sakka  perceiving  that 
one  of  them  would  be  the  Tathagata,  went  to  the  door 
of  their  mansion,  and  saluting  him  as  he  arose  and  came 
to  meet  him,  said,  "Sir,  you  must  go  into  the  world  of 
men."  But  he  said,  "  O  king,  the  world  of  men  is  hateful 
and  loathsome ;  they  who  dwell  there  do  good  and  give 
alms  longing  for  the  world  of  the  gods.  What  shall  I 
do  wThen  I  get  there?"  "Sir,  you  shall  enjoy  there  all 
that  can  be  enjoyed  in  the  world  of  gods;  you  shall  dwell 
in  a  palace  made  with  stones  of  price,  five  and  twenty 
leagues  in  height.  Do  consent."  He  consented.  When 
Sakka  had  received  his  promise,  in  the  guise  of  a  sage 
he  descended  into  the  king's  park,  and  shewed  himself 
soaring  above  those  women  to  and  fro  in  the  air,  while  he 


chanted,  "  To  whom  shall  I  give  the  blessing  of  a  son,  who 
craves  the  blessing  of  a  son  ? "  "  To  me,  Sir,  to  me ! " 
thousands  of  hands  were  uplifted.  Then  he  said,  "  I  give 
sons  to  the  virtuous :  what  is  your  virtue,  what  your  life 
and  conversation?"  They  drew  down  their  uplifted 
hands,  saying,  "If  you  would  reward  virtue,  go  seek 
Sumedha."  He  went  his  ways  through  the  air,  and  stayed 
at  the  window  of  her  bedchamber.  Then  thev  went  and 


told  her,  saying,  "See,  my  lady,  a  king  of  the  gods  has 
come  down  through  the  air,  and  stands  at  your  bed- 
chamber window,  offering  you  the  boon  of  a  son !"  With 
great  pomp  she  proceeded  thither,  and  opening  the  Avindow, 
said,  "  Is  this  true,  Sir,  that  I  hear,  how  you  offer  the 
blessing  of  a  son  to  a  virtuous  woman  ? "  "  It  is,  and  so 
I  do."  "Then  grant  it  to  me."  "What  is  your  virtue, 
tell  me ;  and  if  you  please  me,  I  grant  you  the  boon." 
Then  declaring  her  virtue  she  recited  these  fifteen 

I  am  king-  Ruci's  consort-queen,  the  first  he  ever  wed; 
With  Suruci  ten  thousand  years  my  wedded  life  I  led. 

Suruci  king  of  Mithila,  Videha's  chief est  place, 

I  never  lightly  held  his  wish,  nor  deemed  him  mean  or  base, 

In  deed  or  thought  or  word,  behind  his  back,  nor  to  his  face. 

If  this  be  true,  0  holy  one,  so  may  that  son  be  given: 

But  if  my  lips  are  speaking  lies,  then  burst  my  head  in  seven. 

The  parents  of  my  husband  dear,  so  long  as  they  held  sway, 
And  while  they  lived,  would  ever  give  me  training  in  the  Way. 

My  passion  was  to  hurt  no  life,  and  willingly  do  right: 

I  served  them  with  extreniest  care  unwearied  day  and  night. 

If  this  be  true,  etc. 

No  less  than  sixteen  thousand  dames  my  fellow-wives  have  been: 
Yet,  brahmin,  never  jealousy  nor  anger  came  between. 
At  their  good  fortune  I  rejoice;  each  one  of  them  is  dear; 
My  heart  is  soft  to  all  these  wives  as  though  myself  it  were. 

If  this  be  true,  etc. 


Slaves,  messengers,  and  servants  all,  and  all  about  the  place, 
I  give  them  food,  I  treat  them  well,  with  cheerful  pleasant  face. 

If  this  be  true,  etc. 

Ascetics,  brahmins,  any  man  who  begging1  here  is  seen, 

I  comfort  all  with  food  and  drink,  my  hands  all  washen  clean. 

If  this  be  true,  etc. 

The  eighth  of  either  fortnight,  the  fourteenth,  fifteenth  days, 
And  the  especial  fast  I  keep,  I  walk  in  holy  ways. 

If  this  be  true,  0  holy  one,  so  may  that  son  be  given: 

But  if  niy  lips  are  speaking  lies,  then  burst  my  head  in  seven. 

Indeed  not  a  hundred  verses,  nor  a  thousand,  could 
suffice  to  sing  the  praise  of  her  virtues:  yet  Sakka 
allowed  her  to  sing  her  own  praises  in  these  fifteen 
stanzas,  nor  did  he  cut  the  tale  short  though  he  had  much 
to  do  elsewhere;  then  he  said,  "Abundant  and  marvellous 
are  your  virtues";  then  in  her  praise  he  recited  a  couple 
of  stanzas: 

All  these  great  virtues,  glorious  dame,  0  daughter  of  a  king, 
Are  found  in  thee,  which  of  thyself,  0  lady,  thou  dost  sing. 

A  warrior,  born  of  noble  blood,  all  glorious  and  wise, 
Videha's  righteous  emperor,  thy  son,  shall  soon  arise. 

When  these  words  she  heard,  in  great  joy  she  recited 
two  stanzas,  putting  a  question  to  him : 

Unkempt,  with  dust  and  dirt  begrimed,  high-poised  in  the  sky, 
Thou  speakest  in  a  lovely  voice  that  pricks  me  to  the  heart. 

Art  thou  a  mighty  god,  0  sage  and  dwellst  in  heaven  on  high? 
O  tell  me  whence  thou  comest  here,  0  tell  me  who  thou  art! 

He  told  her  in  six  stanzas : 

Sakka  the  Hundred-eyed  thou  seest,  for  so  the  gods  me  call 
When  they  are  wont  to  assemble  in  the  heavenly  judgment  hall. 

When  women  virtuous,  wise,  and  good  here   in  the   world  are 

True  wives,  to  husband's  mother  kind  even  as  in  duty  bound, 

When  such  a  woman  wise  of  heart  and  good  in  deed  they  know, 
To  her,  though  woman,  they  divine,  the  gods  themselves  will  go. 

F.   &  T.  24 


So  lady,  thou,  through  worthy  life,  through  store  of  good  deeds 

A  princess  born,  all  happiness  the  heart  can  wish,  hast  won. 

So  thou  dost  reap  thy  deeds,  princess,  by  glory  on  the  earth, 
And  after  in  the  world  of  gods  a  new  and  heavenly  birth. 

0  wise,  0  blessed!  so  live  on,  preserve  thy  conduct  right: 
Now  I  to  heaven  must  return,  delighted  with  thy  sight. 

"I  have  business  to  do  in  the  world  of  gods,"  quoth 
he,  "  therefore  I  go  ;  but  do  thou  be  vigilant."  With  this 
advice  he  departed. 

In  the  morning  time,  the  god  Nalakara  came  down 
and  was  conceived.  When  she  discovered  it,  she  told  the 
king,  and  he  did  what  was  necessary  for  a  woman  in  her 
state1.  At  the  end  of  ten  months  she  brought  forth 
a  son,  and  they  gave  him  Maha-panada  to  his  name. 
All  the  people  of  the  two  countries  came  crying  out, 
"My  lord,  we  bring  this  for  the  boy's  milk-money,"  and 
each  dropt  a  coin  in  the  king's  courtyard:  a  great  heap 
there  was  of  them.  The  king  did  not  wish  to  accept  this, 
but  they  would  not  take  the  money  back,  but  said  as  they 
departed,  "When  the  boy  grows  up,  my  lord,  it  will  pay 
for  his  keep." 

The  lad  was  brought  up  amid  great  magnificence ;  and 
when  he  came  of  years,  aye,  no  more  than  sixteen,  he  was 
perfect  in  all  accomplishments.  The  king  thinking  of  his 
son's  age,  said  to  the  queen,  "My  lady,  when  the  time 
comes  for  the  ceremonial  sprinkling  of  our  son,  let  us 
make  him  a  fine  palace  for  that  occasion."  She  was  quite 
willing.  The  king  sent  for  those  who  had  skill  in  divining 
the  lucky  place  for  a  building2,  and  said  to  them:  "My 

1  See  Jat.  151,  p.  131.     There  was  a  ceremony  called  garbharaksana  which  pro- 
tected against  abortion  (Bvihler,  Ritual-Litter  atur,  in  Grundriss  der  indo-arisch. 
Philologie,  p.  43).     (Dr  Rouse.) 

2  Cf.  Jat.  257,  p.  198. 


friends,  get  a  master-mason,  and  build  me  a  palace  not 
far  from  my  own.  This  is  for  my  son,  whom  we  are  about 
to  consecrate  as  my  successor."  They  said  it  was  well, 
and  proceeded  to  examine  the  surface  of  the  ground. 
At  that  moment  Sakka's  throne  became  hot.  Perceiving 
this,  he  at  once  summoned  Yissakamma1,  and  said,  "Go, 
my  good  Vissakamma,  make  for  Prince  Maha-panada 
a  palace  half  a  league  in  length  and  breadth  and  five 
and  twenty  leagues  in  height,  all  with  stones  of  price." 
Vissakamma  took  on  the  shape  of  a  mason,  and  ap- 
proaching the  workmen  said,  "  Go  and  eat  your  breakfast, 
then  return."  Having  thus  got  rid  of  the  men,  he  struck 
on  the  earth  with  his  staff;  in  that  instant  up  rose  a 
palace,  seven  storeys  high,  of  the  aforesaid  size.  Now 
for  Maha-panada  these  three  ceremonies  were  done 
together:  the  ceremony  for  consecrating  the  palace,  the 
ceremony  for  spreading  above  him  the  royal  umbrella, 
the  ceremony  of  his  marriage.  At  the  time  of  the 
ceremony  all  the  people  of  both  countries  gathered 
together,  and  spent  seven  years  a-feasting,  nor  did  the 
king  dismiss  them:  their  clothes,  their  ornaments,  their 
food  and  their  drink  and  all  the  rest  of  it,  these  things 
were  all  provided  by  the  royal  family.  At  the  seven 
years'  end  they  began  to  grumble,  and  king  Suruci  asked 
why.  "  O  king,"  they  said,  "  while  we  have  been  revelling 
at  this  feast  seven  years  have  gone  by.  When  will  the 
feast  come  to  an  end  ? "  He  answered,  "  My  good  friends, 
all  this  while  my  son  has  never  once  laughed.  So  soon 
as  he  shall  laugh,  we  will  disperse  again."  Then  the 
crowd  went  beating  the  drum  and  gathered  the  tumblers 
and  jugglers  together.  Thousands  of  tumblers  were 
gathered,  and  they  divided  themselves  into  seven  bands 

1  The  celestial  architect. 



and  danced ;  but  they  could  not  make  the  prince  laugh. 
Of  course  he  that  had  seen  the  dancing  of  dancers  divine 
could  not  care  for  such  dancers  as  these.    Then  came 
two   clever  jugglers,   Bhandu-kanna  and    Pandu-kanna, 
Crop-ear  and  Yellow-ear,  and  said  they,  "We  will  make 
the  prince  laugh."    Bhandu-kanna  made  a  great  mango 
tree,  which  he  called  Sanspareil,  grow  before  the  palace 
door:  then  he  threw  up  a  ball  of  string,  and  made  it 
catch  on  a  branch  of  the  tree,  and  then  up  he  climbed 
into  the  Mango  Sanspareil.     Now  the  Mango  Sanspareil 
they    say   is   Vessavana's   mango1.     And  the    slaves    of 
Vessavana  took  him,  as  usual,  chopt  him  up  limb-meal 
and  threw  down  the  bits.     The  other  jugglers  joined  the 
pieces  together,  and  poured  water  upon  them.     The  man 
donned  upper  and  under  garments  of  flowers,  and  rose 
up  and  began  dancing  again.     Even  the  sight  of  this  did 
not  make  the    prince   laugh.      Then   Pandu-kanna  had 
some  fire-wood  piled  in  the  courtyard  and  went  into  the 
fire  with  his  troop.     When  the  fire  was  burnt  out,  the 
people    sprinkled   the    pile    with    water.      Pandu-kanna 
with  his  troop  rose  up  dancing  with  upper  and  under 
garments  of  flowers.    When  the  people  found  they  could 
not  make  him  laugh,  they  grew  angry.     Sakka,  perceiving 
this,  sent  down  a  divine  dancer,  bidding  him  make  prince 
Maha-panada  laugh.     Then  he  came  and  remained  poised 
in  the  air  above  the  royal  courtyard,  and  performed  what 
is  called  the  Half-body  dance:  one  hand,  one  foot,  one 
eye,  one  tooth,  go  a-dancing,  throbbing,  flickering  to  and 
fro,  all  the  rest  stone  still.     Maha-panada,  when  he  saw 
this,  erave  a  little  smile.    But  the  crowd  roared  and  roared 

'    O 

with  laughter,  could  not  cease  laughing,  laughed  them- 

1  The  juggling  trick  here  described  is  spoken  of  by  mediaeval  travellers.    See 
Yule's  Marco  Polo,  vol.  i.  p.  308  (ed.  2).    (Dr  Rouse.) 

A  LOST  FRIEND  FOUND  BY  A  SONG        373 

selves  out  of  their  wits,  lost  control  of  their  limbs,  rolled 
over  and  over  in  the  royal  courtyard.     That  was  the  end 
of  the  festival.     The  rest  of  it- 
Great  Panada,  mighty  king, 
With  his  palace  all  of  gold, 

must  be  explained  in  the  Maha-panada  Birth1. 

King  Maha-panada  did  good  and  gave  alms,  and  at  his 
life's  end  went  to  the  wrorld  of  gods. 

Of.  Grimm  4,  Anm.,  One  who  went  out  to  learn  what  fear  was.  Sakka's  inability 
to  give  a  sou  unconditionally  resembles  the  beginning  of  Tib.  T.  ix.  He  appeals  to 
Brahma,  but  all  he  can  do  is  to  induce  a  god,  whose  life  is  coming  to  an  end,  to  go 
and  be  born,  as  he  does  also  in  the  Kusa-Jataka,  p.  429.  Similarly  in  Jat.  220 
Sakka  is  unable  to  make  a  man  with  all  four  virtues  (p.  187). 


Once  upon  a  time,  in  the  realm  of  Avanti,  and  the  city 
of  Ujjeni,  reigned  a  great  king  named  Avanti.  At  that 
time,  a  Candala  village  lay  outside  Ujjeni,  and  there  the 
Great  Being  was  born.  Another  person  wras  born  the  son 
of  his  mother's  sister.  The  one  of  these  two  was  named 
Citta,  and  the  other  Sambhuta. 

These  two  when  they  grew  up,  having  learnt  what  is 
called  the  art  of  sweeping  in  the  Candala  breed,  thought 
one  day  they  would  go  and  shew  off  this  art  at  the  city 
gate.  So  one  of  them  shewed  off  at  the  north  gate,  and 
one  at  the  east.  Now  in  this  city  were  two  women  wise  in 
the  omens  of  sight,  the  one  a  merchant's  daughter  and  the 
other  a  family  priest's.  These  went  forth  to  make  merry 
in  the  park,  having  ordered  food  to  be  brought  hard  and 
soft,  garlands  and  perfumes ;  and  it  so  happened  that  one 
went  out  by  the  northern  gate  and  one  the  eastern. 
Seeing  the  two  young  Candalas  shewing  their  art,  the 

1  This  is  merely  a  short  summary. 


girls  asked  "Who  are  these?"  Candalas,  they  were 
informed.  "This  is  an  evil  omen  to  see!"  they  said, 
and  after  washing  their  eyes  with  perfumed  water,  they 
returned  back.  Then  the  multitude  cried,  "O  vile  outcasts, 
you  have  made  us  lose  food  and  strong  drink  which  would 
have  cost  us  nothing!"  They  belaboured  the  two  kins- 
men, and  did  them  much  misery  and  mischief.  When  they 
recovered  their  senses,  up  they  got  and  joined  company, 
and  told  each  the  other  what  woe  had  befallen  him, 
weeping  and  wailing,  and  wondering  what  to  do  now.  "All 
this  misery  has  come  upon  us,"  they  thought,  "because 
of  our  birth.  We  shall  never  be  able  to  play  the  part  of 
Candalas ;  let  us  conceal  our  birth,  and  go  to  Takkasila 
in  the  disguise  of  young  brahmins,  and  study  there." 
Having  made  this  decision,  they  went  thither,  and  fol- 
lowed their  studies  in  the  law  under  a  far-famed  master. 
A  rumour  was  blown  abroad  over  India,  that  two  young 
Candalas  were  students,  and  had  concealed  their  birth. 

•    • 

The  wise  Citta  was  successful  in  his  studies,  but  Samb- 
huta  not  so. 

One  day  a  villager  invited  the  teacher,  intending  to 
offer  food  to  the  brahmins.  Now  it  happened  that  rain 
fell  in  the  night,  and  flooded  all  the  hollows  in  the  road. 
Early  in  the  morning  the  teacher  summoned  wise  Citta, 
and  said,  "  My  lad,  I  cannot  go,  do  you  go  with  the  young 
men,  and  pronounce  a  blessing,  eat  what  you  get  for  your- 
self and  bring  home  what  there  is  for  me."  Accordingly 
he  took  the  young  brahmins,  and  went.  While  the  young 
men  bathed,  and  rinsed  their  mouths,  the  people  prepared 
rice  porridge,  which  they  set  ready  for  them,  saying,  "  Let 
it  cool."  Before  it  was  cool,  the  young  men  came  and  sat 
down.  The  people  gave  them  the  water  of  offering,  and 
set  the  bowls  in  front  of  them.  Sambhuta's  wits  were 


somewhat  muddled,  and  imagining  it  to  be  cool,  took  up 
a  ball  of  the  rice  and  put  it  in  his  mouth,  but  it  burnt  him 
like  a  red-hot  ball  of  metal.  In  his  pain  he  forgot  his 
part  altogether,  and  glancing  at  wise  Citta,  he  said,  in  the 
Candala  dialect,  "Hot,  ain't  it?"  The  other  forgot  himself 
too,  and  answered  in  their  manner  of  speech,  "Spit  it  out, 
spit  it  out."  At  this  the  young  men  looked  at  each  other, 
and  said,  "What  kind  of  language  is  this?"  Wise  Citta 
pronounced  a  blessing. 

When  the  young  men  came  home,  they  gathered  in 
little  knots  and  sat  here  and  there  discussing  the  words 
used.  Finding  that  it  was  the  dialect  of  the  Candalas, 

o  •     • 

they  cried  out  on  them,  "O  vile  outcasts !  you  have  been 
tricking  us  all  this  while,  and  pretending  to  be  brahmins!" 
And  they  beat  them  both.  One  good  man  drove  them 
out,  saying,  "Away!  the  blot's  in  the  blood.  Be  off!  Go 
somewhere  and  become  ascetics."  The  young  brahmins 
told  their  teacher  that  these  two  were  Candalas. 

•    • 

The  pair  went  out  into  the  woods,  and  there  took  up 
the  ascetic  life,  and  after  no  long  time  died,  and  were  born 
again  as  the  young  of  a  doe  on  the  banks  of  the  Neranjara. 
From  the  time  of  their  birth  they  always  went  about 
together.  One  day,  when  they  had  fed,  a  hunter  espied 
them  under  a  tree  ruminating  and  cuddling  together,  very 
happy,  head  to  head,  nozzle  to  nozzle,  horn  to  horn.  He 
cast  a  javelin  at  them,  and  killed  them  both  by  one  blow. 

After  this  they  were  born  as  the  young  of  an  osprey, 
on  the  bank  of  Nerbudda.  There  too,  when  they  grew 
up,  after  feeding  they  would  cuddle  together,  head  to 
head  and  beak  to  beak.  A  bird  snarer  saw  them,  caught 
them  together,  and  killed  them  both. 

Next  the  wise  Citta  was  born  at  Kosambi,  as  the  son 
of  a  family  priest ;  the  wise  Sambhuta  was  born  as  the 


son  of  the  king  of  Uttarapaucala.  From  their  name-days 
they  could  remember  their  former  births.  But  Sambhuta 
was  not  able  to  remember  all  without  breaks,  and  all  he 
could  remember  was  the  fourth  or  Candala  birth ;  Citta 
however  remembered  all  four  in  due  order.  When  Citta 
was  sixteen  years  old,  he  went  away  and  became  an  ascetic 
in  Himalaya,  and  developed  the  Faculty  of  the  religious 
ecstasy,  and  dwelt  in  the  bliss  of  ecstatic  trance.  Wise 
Sambhuta  after  his  father's  death  had  the  Umbrella 
spread  over  him,  and  on  the  very  day  of  the  umbrella 
ceremony,  in  the  midst  of  a  great  concourse,  made  a 
ceremonial  hymn,  and  uttered  two  stanzas  in  aspiration. 
When  they  heard  this,  the  royal  wives  and  the  musicians 
all  chanted  them,  saying,  "Our  king's  own  coronation 
hymn ! "  and  in  course  of  time  all  the  citizens  sang  it,  as 
the  hymn  which  their  king  loved.  Wise  Citta,  in  his 
dwelling  place  in  Himalaya,  wondered  whether  his  brother 
Sambhuta  had  assumed  the  Umbrella,  or  not.  Perceiving 
that  he  had,  he  thought,  "I  shall  never  be  able  to  instruct 
a  young  ruler ;  but  when  he  is  old,  I  will  visit  him,  and 
persuade  him  to  be  an  ascetic."  For  fifty  years  he  went 
not,  and  by  that  time  the  king  was  increased  with  sons 
and  daughters;  then  by  his  supernatural  power,  he  went, 
and  alighted  in  the  park,  and  sat  down  on  the  seat  of 
ceremony  like  an  image  of  gold.  Just  then  a  lad  was 
picking  up  sticks,  and  as  he  did  so  he  sang  that  hymn. 
Wise  Citta  called  him  to  approach ;  he  came  up  with  an 
obeisance,  and  waited.  Citta  said  to  him,  "Since  early 
morning  you  have  been  singing  that  hymn;  do  you  know 
no  other?"  -"Oh  yes,  sir,  I  know  many  more,  but  these 
are  the  verses  the  king  loves,  that  is  why  I  sing  no 
others."-  -"Is  there  any  one  who  can  sing  a  refrain  to  the 
kings  hymn?"— "No,  sir."— "Could  you?"— "Yes,  if  I  am 


taught  one."  -"  Well,  when  the  king  chants  these  two 
verses,  you  sing  this  by  way  of  a  third,"  and  he  recited 
a  hymn.  "Now,"  said  he,  "go  and  sing  this  before  the 
king,  and  the  king  will  be  pleased  with  you,  and  make 
much  of  you  for  it."  The  lad  went  to  his  mother  quickly, 
and  got  himself  drest  up  spick  and  span;  then  to  the 
king's  door,  and  sent  in  word  that  a  lad  would  sing  him 
a  refrain  to  his  hymn.  The  king  said,  "  Let  him  approach." 
When  the  lad  had  come  in,  and  saluted  him,  quoth  the 
king,  "  They  say  you  will  sing  me  an  answering  refrain  to 
my  hymn?"  "Yes,  my  lord,"  said  he,  "bring  in  the  whole 
court  to  hear."  As  soon  as  the  court  had  assembled,  the 
lad  said,  "Sing  your  hymn,  my  lord,  and  I  will  answer  with 
mine."  The  king  repeated  a  pair  of  stanzas : 

Every  good  deed  bears  fruit  or  soon  or  late, 
No  deed  without  result,  aud  nothing-  vain: 

I  see  Sambhuta  mighty  grown  and  great, 
Thus  do  his  virtues  bear  him  fruit  again. 

Every  good  deed  bears  fruit  or  soon  or  late, 
No  deed  without  result,  and  nothing  vain. 

Who  knows  if  Citta  also  may  be  great, 
And  like  myself,  his  heart  have  brought  him  gain? 

At  the  end  of  this  hymn,  the  lad  chanted  the  third 
stanza : 

Every  good  deed  bears  fruit  or  soon  or  late, 
No  deed  without  result,  and  nothing  vain. 

Behold,  my  lord,  see  Citta  at  thy  gate, 
And  like  thyself,  his  heart  has  brought  him  gain. 

On  hearing  this  the  king  repeated  the  fourth  stanza: 

Then  art  thou  Citta,  or  the  tale  didst  hear 
From  him,  or  did  some  other  make  thee  know? 

Thy  hymn  is  very  sweet:   I  have  no  fear; 
A  village  and  a  bounty1  I  bestow. 

1  Lit.  a  hundred  (pieces  of  money):  or  (with  the  scholiast)  "A  hundred  villages  I 
do  bestow." 


Then  the  lad  repeated  the  fifth  stanza: 

I  am  not  Citta,  but  I  heard  the  thing. 

It  was  a  sage  laid  ou  me  this  command — 
Go  and  recite  an  answer  to  the  king, 

And  be  rewarded  by  his  grateful  hand. 

Hearing  this,  the  king  thought,  "  It  must  be  my  brother 
Citta;  now  I'll  go  and  see  him";  then  he  laid  his  bidding 
upon  his  men  in  the  words  of  these  two  stanzas : 

Come,  yoke  the  royal  chariots,  so  finely  wrought  and  made : 
Gird  up  with  girths  the  elephants,  in  necklets  bright  arrayed. 

Beat  drums  for  joy,  and  let  the  conchs  be  blown, 

Prepare  the  swiftest  chariots  I  own: 

For  to  that  hermitage  I  will  away, 

To  see  the  sage  that  sits  within,  this  day. 

So  he  spoke;  then  mounting  his  fine  chariot,  he  went 
swiftly  to  the  park  gate.  There  he  checked  his  chariot, 
and  approached  wise  Citta  with  an  obeisance,  and  sat 
down  on  one  side ;  greatly  pleased,  he  recited  the  eighth 
stanza : 

A  precious  hymn  it  was  I  sang  so  sweet 

While  thronging  multitudes  around  me  pressed; 

For  now  this  holy  sage  I  come  to  greet 

And  all  is  joy  and  gladness  in  my  breast. 

Happy  from  the  instant  he  saw  wise  Citta,  he  gave  all 
necessary  directions,  bidding  prepare  a  seat  for  his  brother, 
and  repeated  the  ninth  stanza: 

Accept  a  seat,  and  for  your  feet  fresh  water:  it  is  right 
To  offer  gifts  of  food  to  guests:  accept,  as  we  invite. 

After  this  sweet  invitation,  the  king  repeated  another 
stanza,  offering  him  the  half  of  his  kingdom : 

Let  them  make  glad  the  place  where  thou  shalt  dwell, 
Let  throngs  of  waiting  women  wait  on  thee; 

0  let  me  shew  thee  that  I  love  thee  well, 
And  let  us  both  kings  here  together  be. 


When  he  had  heard  these  words,  wise  Citta  discoursed 
to  him  in  six  stanzas: 

Seeing  the  fruit  of  evil  deeds,  0  king-, 
Seeing1  what  profit  deeds  of  goodness  bring-, 
I  fain  would  exercise  stern  self-control, 
Sons,  wealth,  and  cattle  cannot  charm  my  soul. 

Ten  decades  has  this  mortal  life,  which  each  to  each  succeed : 
This  limit  reached,  man  withers  fast  like  to  a  broken  reed. 

Then  what  is  pleasure,  what  is  love,  wealth-hunting  what  to  me? 
What  sons  and  daughters?  know,  O  king,  from  fetters  I  am  free. 

For  this  is  .true,  I  know  it  well — death  will  not  pass  me  by: 

And  what  is  love,  or  what  is  wealth,  when  you  must  come  to  die  ? 

The  lowest  race  that  go  upon  two  feet 
Are  the  Candalas,  meanest  men  on  earth, 

When  all  our  deeds  were  ripe,  as  guerdon  meet 
We  both  as  young  Candalas  had  our  birth. 

Candalas  in  Avanti  land,  deer  by  Neranjara, 

Ospreys  by  the  Nerbudda,  now  brahmin  and  Khattiya. 

Having  thus  made  clear  his  mean  births  in  time  past, 
here  also  in  this  birth  he  declared  the  impermanency  of 
things  created,  and  recited  four  stanzas  to  arouse  an 

effort : 

Life  is  but  short,  and  death  the  end  must  be: 
The  aged  have  no  hiding  where  to  flee. 
Then,  0  Pancala,  what  I  bid  thee,  do: 
All  deeds  which  grow  to  misery,  eschew. 

Life  is  but  short,  and  death  the  end  must] be: 
The  aged  have  no  hiding  where  to  flee. 
Then,  0  Pancala,  what  I  bid  thee,  do: 
All  deeds  whose  fruit  is  misery,  eschew. 

Life  is  but  short,  and  death  the  end  must  be: 
The  aged  have  no  hiding  where  to  flee. 
Then,  0  Pancala,  what  I  bid  thee,  do: 
All  deeds  that  are  with  passion  stained  eschew. 

Life  is  but  short,  and  death  the  end  must  be: 
Old  age  will  sap  our  strength,  we  cannot  flee. 
Then,  O  Paficala,  what  I  bid  thee,  do: 
All  deeds  that  lead  to  lowest  hell,  eschew. 

380       A  LOST  FRIEND  FOUND  BY  A  SONG 

The  king  rejoiced  as  the  Great  Being  spoke  and 
repeated  three  stanzas: 

True  is  that  word,  0  Brother!  which  you  say, 
You  like  a  holy  saint  your  words  dictate : 

But  my  desires  are  hard  to  cast  away 
By  such  as  I  am ;  they  are  very  great. 

As  elephants  deep  sunken  in  the  mire 
Cannot  climb  out,  although  they  see  the  land: 

So,  sunken  in  the  slough  of  strong  desire 
Upon  the  Brethren's  Path  I  cannot  stand. 

As  father  or  as  mother  would  their  son 
Admonish,  good  and  happy  how  to  grow: 

How  happiness  after  this  life  is  won 
Tell  me,  and  by  which  way  I  ought  to  go. 

Then  the  Great  Being  said  to  him: 

0  lord  of  men!   thou  canst  not  cast  away 
These  passions  which  are  common  to  mankind: 

Let  not  thy  people  unjust  taxes  pay, 
Equal  and  righteous  ruling  let  them  find. 

Send  messengers  to  north,  south,  east,  and  west 

The  brahmins  and  ascetics  to  invite: 
Provide  them  food  and  drink,  a  place  to  rest, 

Clothes,  and  all  else  that  may  be  requisite. 

Give  thou  the  food  and  drink  which  satisfies 

Sages  and  holy  brahmins,  full  of  faith : 
Who  gives  and  rules  as  well  as  in  him  lies 

Will  go  to  heaven  all  blameless  after  death. 

But  if,  surrounded  by  thy  womankind 
Thou  feel  thy  passion  and  desire  too  strong, 

This  verse  of  poetry  then  bear  in  mind 
And  sing  it  in  the  midst  of  alL  the  throng : 

No  roof  to  shelter  from  the  sky,  amid  the  dogs  he  lay, 

But  mother  nursed  him  as  she  walked:  but  he's  a  king  to-day. 

Such  was  the  Great  Being's  advice.  Then  he  said, 
"I  have  given  you  my  counsel.  And  now  do  you  become 
an  ascetic  or  not,  as  you  think  fit ;  but  I  will  follow  up  the 

KING   SIVI  381 

ripening  of  my  own  deeds."  Then  he  rose  up  in  the  air, 
and  shook  off  the  dust  of  his  feet  over  him,  and  departed  to 
Himalaya.  And  the  king  saw  it,  and  was  greatly  moved ; 
and  relinquishing  his  kingdom  to  his  eldest  son,  he  called 
out  his  army,  and  set  his  face  in  the  direction  of  Himalaya. 
When  the  Great  Being  heard  of  his  coming,  he  went  with 
his  attendant  sages  and  received  him,  and  ordained  him 
to  the  holy  life,  and  taught  him  the  means  of  inducing 
mystic  ecstasy.  He  developed  the  Faculty  of  mystical 
meditation.  Thus  these  two  together  became  destined  for 
Brahma's  world. 

See  Leumann  in  Vienna  Or.  J.  v.  Ill  ff.,  who  discusses  three  Jain  versions.  It 
is  essentially  a  folktale  of  two  friends,  who  discover  each  other  by  means  of  a 
refrain,  and  may  once  have  stood  in  a  vedic  purana  or  itihasa.  Damayanti  similarly 
sends  out  messengers  who  repeat  a  verse  in  order  to  discover  her  lost  husband  Nala, 
Mbh.  in.  ch.  53-79,  and  king  Arindama  in  Jat.  529,  p.  420.  Cf.  the  legend  of  Blondel, 
the  minstrel  of  Richard  III,  who  discovered  him  imprisoned  by  the  Emperor  in 
the  castle  of  Diirrenstein. 


Once  upon  a  time,  when  the  mighty  King  Sivi  reigned 
in  the  city  of  Aritthapura  in  the  kingdom  of  Sivi,  the  Great 
Being  was  born  as  his  son.  They  called  his  name  Prince 
Sivi.  When  he  grew  up,  he  went  to  Takkasila  and  studied 
there ;  then  returning,  he  proved  his  knowledge  to  his 
father  the  king,  and  by  him  was  made  viceroy.  At  his 
father's  death  he  became  king  himself,  and,  forsaking  the 
ways  of  evil,  he  kept  the  Ten  Royal  Virtues  and  ruled  in 
righteousness.  He  caused  six  alms-halls  to  be  builded,  at 
the  four  gates,  in  the  midst  of  the  city,  and  at  his  own 
door.  He  was  munificent  in  distributing  each  day  six 
hundred  thousand  pieces  of  money.  On  the  eighth,  four- 
teenth, and  fifteenth  days  he  never  missed  visiting  the 
alms-halls  to  see  the  distribution  made. 

382  KING   SIVI 

Once  on  the  day  of  the  full  moon,  the  state  umbrella 
had  been  uplifted  early  in  the  morning,  and  he  sat  on 
the  royal  throne  thinking  over  the  gifts  he  had  given. 
Thought  he  to  himself,  "Of  all  outside  things  there  is 
nothing  I  have  not  given ;  but  this  kind  of  giving  does 
not  content  me.  I  want  to  give  something  which  is  a 
part  of  myself.  Well,  this  day  when  I  go  to  the  alms-hall, 
I  vow  that  if  any  one  ask  not  something  outside  me,  but 
name  what  is  part  of  myself, — if  he  should  mention  my 
very  heart,  I  will  cut  open  my  breast  with  a  spear,  and  as 
though  I  were  drawing  up  a  water-lily,  stalk  and  all,  from 
a  calm  lake,  I  will  pull  forth  my  heart  dripping  with 
blood-clots  and  give  it  him :  if  he  should  name  the  flesh 
of  my  body,  I  will  cut  the  flesh  off  my  body  and  give  it, 
as  though  I  were  graving  with  a  graving  tool:  let  him 
name  my  blood,  I  will  give  him  my  blood,  dropping  it  in 
his  mouth  or  filling  a  bowl  with  it :  or  again,  if  one  say,  I 
can't  get  my  household  work  done,  come  and  do  me  a 
slave's  part  at  home,  then  I  will  leave  my  royal  dress  and 
stand  without,  proclaiming  myself  a  slave,  and  slave's 
work  I  will  do :  should  any  men  demand  my  eyes,  I  will 
tear  out  my  eyes  and  give  them,  as  one  might  take  out 
the  pith  of  a  palm-tree."  Thus  he  thought  within  him  : 

If  there  be  any  human  gift  that  I  have  never  made, 
Be  it  my  eyes,  I'll  give  it  now,  all  firm  and  unafraid. 

Then  he  bathed  himself  with  sixteen  pitchers  of  per- 
fumed water,  and  adorned  him  in  all  hfs  magnificence, 
and  after  a  meal  of  choice  food  he  mounted  upon  an 
elephant  richly  caparisoned  and  went  to  the  alms-hall. 

Sakka,  perceiving  his  resolution,  thought,  "King  Sivi 
has  determined  to  give  his  eyes  to  any  chance  comer  who 
may  ask.  Will  he  be  able  to  do  it,  or  no?"  He  deter- 
mined to  try  him ;  and,  in  the  form  of  a  brahmin  old  and 

KING  SIVI  383 

blind,  he  posted  himself  on  a  high  place,  and  when  the 
king  came  to  his  alms-hall  he  stretched  out  his  hand  and 
stood  crying,  "  Long  live  the  king ! "  Then  the  king  drove 
his  elephant  towards  him,  and  said,  "What  do  you  say, 
brahmin  ? "  Sakka  said  to  him,  "  O  great  king !  in  all  the 
inhabited  world  there  is  no  spot  where  the  fame  of  your 
munificent  heart  has  not  sounded.  I  am  blind,  and  you 
have  two  eyes."  Then  he  repeated  the  first  stanza,  asking 
for  an  eye: 

To  ask  an  eye  the  old  man  comes  from  far,  for  I  have  none: 
0  give  me  one  of  yours,  I  pray,  then  we  shall  each  have  one. 

When  the  Great  Being  heard  this,  thought  he,  "  Why 
that  is  just  what  I  wras  thinking  in  my  palace  before  I 
came!  What  a  fine  chance!  My  heart's  desire  will  be 
fulfilled  to-day;  I  shall  give  a  gift  which  no  man  ever 
gave  yet."  And  he  recited  the  second  stanza: 

Who  taught  thee  hitherward  to  wend  thy  way, 
O  mendicant,  and  for  an  eye  to  pray? 

The  chiefest  portion  of  a  man  is  this, 
And  hard  for  men  to  part  with,  so  they  say. 

(The  succeeding  stanzas  are  to  be  read  two  and  two, 
as  may  easily  be  seen.) 

Sujampati  among  the  gods,  the  same 
Here  among  men  called  Maghava  toy  name, 

He  taught  me  hitherward  to  wend  my  way, 
Begging,  and  for  an  eye  to  urge  my  claim. 

'Tis  the  all-chiefest  gift  for  which  I  pray. 
Give  me  an  eye!    0  do  not  say  me  nay! 

Give  me  an  eye,  that  chiefest  gift  of  gifts, 
So  hard  for  men  to  part  with,  as  they  say! 

The  wish  that  brought  thee  hitherward,  the  wish  that  did  arise 
Within  thee,  be  that  wish  fulfilled.    Here,  brahmin,  take  my  eyes. 

One  eye  thou  didst  request  of  rue:  behold,  I  give  thee  two! 
Go  with  good  sight,  in  all  the  people's  view; 
So  be  thy  wish  fulfilled  and  now  come  true. 

384  KING   SIVI 

So  much  the  king  said.  But,  thinking  it  not  meet  that 
he  should  root  out  his  eyes  and  bestow  them  there  and 
then,  he  brought  the  brahmin  indoors  with  him,  and  sitting 
on  the  royal  throne,  sent  for  a  surgeon  named  Slvaka. 
"Take  out  my  eye,"  he  then  said. 

Now  all  the  city  rang  with  the  news,  that  the  king 
wished  to  tear  out  his  eyes  and  give  them  to  a  brahmin. 
Then  the  Commander-in-chief,  and  all  the  other  officials, 
and  those  beloved  of  the  king,  gathered  together  from 
city  and  harem,  and  recited  three  stanzas,  that  they  might 
turn  the  king  from  his  purpose  : 

0  do  not  give  thine  eye,  my  lord;  desert  us  not,  O  king! 
Give  money,  pearls  and  coral  give,  and  many  a  precious  thing: 

Give  thoroughbreds  caparisoned,  forth  be  the  chariots  rolled, 
0  king,  drive  up  the  elephants  all  fine  with  cloth  of  gold: 

These  give,  O  king !  that  we  may  all  preserve  thee  safe  and  sound, 
Thy  faithful  people,  with  our  cars  and  chariots  ranged  around. 

Hereupon  the  king  recited  three  stanzas: 

The  soul  which,  having  sworn  to  give,  is  then  unfaithful  found, 
Puts  his  own  neck  within  a  snare  low  hidden  on  the  ground. 

The  soul  which,  having  sworn  to  give,  is  then  unfaithful  found, 
More  sinful  is  than  sin,  and  he  to  Yama's  house  is  bound. 

That  which  is  asked  I  give,  and  not  the  thing  he  asketh  not, 
This  therefore  which  the  brahmin  asks,  I  give  it  on  the  spot. 

Then  the  courtiers  asked,  "What  do  you  desire  in 
giving  your  eyes?"  repeating  a  stanza: 

Life,  beauty,  joy  or  strength — what  is  the  prize, 
0  king,  which  motive  for  your  deed  supplies  ? 
Why  should  the  king  of  Sivi-land  supreme 
For  the  next  world's  sake  thus  bestow  his  eyes? 

The  king  answered  them  in  a  stanza : 

In  giving  thus,  not  glory  is  my  goal, 

Not  sons,  not  wrealth,  or  kingdoms  to  control: 

This  is  the  good  old  way  of  holy  men ; 
Of  giving  gifts  enamoured  is  my  soul. 

KING   SIVI  385 

To  the  Great  Being's  words  the  courtiers  answered 
nothing ;  so  the  Great  Being  addressed  Sivaka  the  surgeon 
in  a  stanza: 

A  friend  and  comrade,  Sivaka,  art  thou  : 
Do  as  I  bid  thee— thou  hast  skill  enow- 
Take  out  my  eyes,  for  this  is  my  desire, 
And  in  the  beggar's  hands  bestow  them  now. 

But  Sivaka  said,  "  Bethink  you,  my  lord !  to  give  one's 
eyes  is  no  light  thing." — "  Sivaka,  I  have  considered ;  don't 
delay,  nor  talk  too  much  in  my  presence."  Then  he 
thought,  "It  is  not  fitting  that  a  skilful  surgeon  like  me 
should  pierce  a  king's  eyes  with  the  lancet,"  so  he  pounded 
a  number  of  simples,  rubbed  a  blue  lotus  with  the  powder, 
and  brushed  it  over  the  right  eye :  round  rolled  the  eye, 
and  there  was  great  pain.  "  Reflect,  my  king,  I  can  make 
it  all  right."  -"  Go  on,  friend,  no  delay,  please."  Again 
he  rubbed  in  the  powder,  and  brushed  it  over  the  eye: 
the  eye  started  from  the  socket,  the  pain  was  worse  than 
before.  "  Reflect,  my  king,  I  can  still  restore  it."  -"  Be 
quick  with  the  job  ! "  A  third  time  he  smeared  a  sharper 
powder,  and  applied  it :  by  the  drug's  power  round  went 
the  eye,  out  it  came  from  the  socket,  and  hung  dangling 
at  the  end  of  the  tendon.  "Reflect,  my  king,  I  can  yet 
restore  it  again."-  -"  Be  quick."  The  pain  was  extreme, 
blood  was  trickling,  the  king's  garments  were  stained  with 
the  blood.  The  king's  women  and  the  courtiers  fell  at 
his  feet,  crying,  "My  lord,  do  not  sacrifice  your  eyes!" 
loudly  they  wept  and  wailed.  The  king  endured  the  pain, 
and  said,  "My  friend,  be  quick."  "Very  well,  my  lord," 
said  the  physician ;  and  with  his  left  hand  grasping  the 
eyeball  took  a  knife  in  his  right,  and  severing  the  tendon, 
laid  the  eye  in  the  Great  Being's  hand.  He,  gazing  with 
his  left  eye  at  the  right  and  enduring  the  pain,  said, 

F.    &  T.  25 

386  KING   SIVI 

"Brahmin,  come  here."  When  the  brahmin  came  near, 
he  went  on — "  The  eye  of  omniscience  is  dearer  than  this 
eye  a  hundred  fold,  aye  a  thousand  fold:  there  you  have 
my  reason  for  this  action,"  and  he  gave  it  to  the  brahmin, 
who  raised  it  and  placed  it  in  his  own  eye  socket.  There 
it  remained  fixt  by  his  power  like  a  blue  lotus  in  bloom. 
When  the  Great  Being  with  his  left  eye  saw  that  eye  in 
his  head,  he  cried — "Ah,  how  good  is  this  my  gift  of  an 
eye!"  and  thrilled  straightway  with  the  joy  that  had  arisen 
within  him,  he  gave  the  other  eye  also.  Sakka  placed  this 
also  in  the  place  of  his  own  eye,  and  departed  from  the 
king's  palace,  and  then  from  the  city,  with  the  gaze  of  the 
multitude  upon  him,  and  went  away  to  the  world  of  gods. 

In  a  short  while  the  king's  eyes  began  to  grow;  as 
they  grew,  and  before  they  reached  the  top  of  the  holes, 
a  lump  of  flesh  rose  up  inside  like  a  ball  of  wool,  filling 
the  cavity;  they  were  like  a  doll's  eyes,  but  the  pain 
ceased.  The  Great  Being  remained  in  the  palace  a  few 
days.  Then  he  thought,  "What  has  a  blind  man  to  do 
with  ruling  ?  I  will  hand  over  my  kingdom  to  the  courtiers, 
and  go  into  my  park,  and  become  an  ascetic,  and  live  as 
a  holy  man."  He  summoned  his  courtiers,  and  told  them 
what  he  intended  to  do.  "  One  man,"  said  he,  "  shall  be 
with  me,  to  wash  my  face,  and  so  forth,  and  to  do  all  that 
is  proper,  and  you  must  fasten  a  cord  to  guide  me  to  the 
retiring  places."  Then  calling  for  his  charioteer,  he  bade 
him  prepare  the  chariot.  But  the  courtiers  would  not 
allow  him  to  go  in  the  chariot ;  they  brought  him  out  in 
a  golden  litter,  and  set  him  down  by  the  lake  side,  and 
then,  guarding  him  all  around,  returned.  The  king  sat  in 
the  litter  thinking  of  his  gift. 

At  that  moment  Sakka's  throne  became  hot;  and  he 
pondering  perceived  the  reason.  "  I  will  offer  the  king  a 

KING   SIVI  387 

boon,"  thought  he,  "  and  make  his  eye  well  again."  So  to 
that  place  he  came ;  and  not  far  off  from  the  Great  Being, 
he  walked  up  and  down,  up  and  down. 

"  Who  is  that  ? "  cried  the  Great  Being,  when  he  heard 
the  sound  of  the  footsteps.     Sakka  repeated  a  stanza : 

Sakka,  the  king  of  gods,  am  I;  to  visit  thee  I  came: 

Choose  thou  a  boon,  0  royal  sage !  whate'er  thy  wish  may  name. 

The  king  replied  with  another  stanza : 

Wealth,  strength,  and  treasure  without  end,  these  I  have  left 

behind : 
0  Sakka,  death  and  nothing  more  I  want:  for  I  am  blind. 

Then  Sakka  said,  "Do  you  ask  death,  King  Sivi,  be- 
cause you  wish  to  die,  or  because  you  are  blind?" 
"  Because  I  am  blind,  my  lord."  -"  The  gift  is  not  every- 
thing in  itself,  your  majesty,  it  was  made  with  a  view  to 
the  future.  Yet  there  is  a  motive  relating  to  this  visible 
world.  Now  you  were  asked  for  one  eye,  and  gave  two ; 
make  an  Act  of  Truth  about  it."  Then  he  began  a  stanza : 

O  warrior,  lord  of  biped  kind,  declare  the  thing  that's  true: 
If  you  the  truth  declare,  your  eye  shall  be  restored  to  you. 

On  hearing  this,  the  Great  Being  replied,  "  If  you  wish 
to  give  me  an  eye,  Sakka,  do  not  try  any  other  means, 
but  let  my  eye  be  restored  as  a  consequence  of  my  gift." 
Sakka  said,  "Though  they  call  me  Sakka,  king  of  the 
gods,  your  majesty,  yet  I  cannot  give  an  eye  to  anyone 
else ;  but  by  the  fruit  of  the  gift  by  thee  given,  and  by 
nothing  else,  your  eye  shall  be  restored  to  you."  Then 
the  other  repeated  a  stanza,  maintaining  that  his  gift  was 
well  given: 

Whatever  sort,  whatever  kind  of  suitor  shall  draw  near, 

Whoever  comes  to  ask  of  me,  he  to  my  heart  is  dear: 

If  these  my  solemn  words  be  true,  now  let  my  eye  appear! 


388  KING   SIVI 

Even  as  he  uttered  the  words,  one  of  his  eyes  grew  up 
in  the  socket.  Then  he  repeated  a  couple  of  stanzas  to 
restore  the  other : 

A  brahmin  came  to  visit  me,  one  of  my  eyes  to  crave: 
Unto  that  brahmin  mendicant  the  pair  of  them  I  gave. 

A  greater  joy  and  more  delight  that  action  did  afford. 

If  these  my  solemn  words  be  true,  be  the  other  eye  restored! 

On  the  instant  appeared  his  second  eye.  But  these 
eyes  of  his  were  neither  natural  nor  divine.  An  eye 
given  by  Sakka  as  the  brahmin,  cannot  be  natural,  we 
know ;  on  the  other  hand,  a  divine  eye  cannot  be  pro- 
duced in  anything  that  is  injured.  But  these  eyes  are 
called  the  eyes  of  the  Attainment  of  Truth.  At  the 
time  when  they  came  into  existence,  the  whole  royal 
retinue  by  Sakka's  power  was  assembled ;  and  Sakka 
standing  in  the  midst  of  the  throng,  uttered  praise  in  a 
couple  of  stanzas : 

0  fostering  King  of  Sivi  laud,  these  holy  hymns  of  thine 
Have  gained  for  thee  as  bounty  free  this  pair  of  eyes  divine. 
Through  rock  and  wall,  o'er  hill  and  dale,  whatever  bar  may  be, 
A  hundred  leagues  on  every  side  those  eyes  of  thine  shall  see. 

Having  uttered  these  stanzas,  poised  in  the  air  before 
the  multitude,  with  a  last  counsel  to  the  Great  Being  that 
he  should  be  vigilant,  Sakka  returned  to  the  world  of 
gods.  And  the  Great  Being,  surrounded  by  his  retinue, 
went  back  in  great  pomp  to  the  city,  and  entered  the 
palace  called  Candaka,  the  Peacock's  Eye.  The  news 
that  he  had  got  his  eyes  again  spread  abroad  all  through 
the  Kingdom  of  Sivi.  All  the  people  gathered  together 
to  see  him,  with  gifts  in  their  hands.  "  Now  all  this  multi- 
tude is  come  together,"  thought  the  Great  Being,  "  I  shall 
praise  my  gift  that  I  gave."  He  caused  a  great  pavilion 
to  be  put  up  at  the  palace  gate,  where  he  seated  himself 

KING   SIVI  389 

upon  the  royal  throne,  with  the  white  umbrella  spread 
above  him.  Then  the  drum  was  sent  beating  about  the 
city,  to  collect  all  the  trade  guilds.  Then  he  said,  "O 
people  of  Sivi !  now  you  have  beheld  these  divine  eyes, 
never  eat  food  without  giving  something  away!"  and  he 
repeated  four  stanzas,  declaring  the  Law : 

Who,  if  he's  asked  to  give,  would  answer  no, 
Although  it  be  his  best  and  choicest  prize? 

People  of  Sivi  thronged  in  concourse,  ho! 
Come  hither,  see  the  gift  of  God,  my  eyes! 

Through  rock  and  wall,  o'er  hill  and  dale,  whatever  bar  may  be, 
A  hundred  leagues  on  every  side  these  eyes  of  mine  can  see. 

Self-sacrifice  in  all  men  mortal  living, 

Of  all  things  is  most  fine: 
I  sacrificed  a  mortal  eye;  and  giving, 

Received  an  eye  divine. 

See,  people!  see,  give  ere  ye  eat,  let  others  have  a  share. 
This  done  with  your  best  will  and  care, 
Blameless  to  heaven  you  shall  repair. 

In  these  four  verses  he  declared  the  Law;  and  after 
that,  every  fortnight,  on  the  holy  day,  even  every  fifteenth 
day,  he  declared  the  Law  in  these  same  verses  without 
cessation  to  a  great  gathering  of  people.  Hearing  which, 
the  people  after  giving  alms  and  doing  good  deeds, 
attained  to  heaven. 

The  form  of  the  tale  of  Sivi,  iu  which  the  king  gives  his  flesh  to  savo  a  dove  from 
Indra  (Sakka)  disguised  as  a  hawk,  occurs  in  P.  (T.)  in.  7,  Mbh.  in.  ch.  13Q,  131, 
Som.  vu.  88  (L  45),  Schmidt  p.  17.  A  buddhist  origin  of  it,  as  Franke  says,  is  neither 
provable  nor  probable.  Som.  has  a  variant  of  buddhist  form  (a  jataka),  The  holy 
Boar  LXXII.  (ii.  176).  In  the  Jdtakamdld  n.  and  Avaddna-Cataka  iv.  4  (34),  ed. 
Feer,  the  king,  after  having  distributed  all  his  wealth,  has  nothing  to  give  to  small 
creatures,  so  slashes  his  body  and  exposes  it  to  the  mosquitoes.  Sakka  then  appears 
as  a  vulture,  and  the  king  offers  his  body.  Thereupon  Sakka  becomes  a  brahmin  and 
demands  the  king's  eyes.  The  tale  of  the  king's  eyes  occurs,  as  in  this  jataka,  in 
Car.  Pit.  vin.,  and  is  referred  to  in  the  Questions  of  Milinda  iv.  1.  42  (tr.  p.  179). 
A  Jain  version  is  given  in  J.  J.  Meyer's  Hindu  Tales  301,  London,  1909.  It  is 
illustrated  on  the  Bharhut  Stupa,  pi.  XLVIII.  2.  Illustrations  of  both  tales  were  found 
by  the  Prussian  Turfan  expeditions  (1906 — 7)  in  the  caves  of  a  rock  temple. 


Once  upon  a  time  when  Brahmadatta  was  ruling-  in 
Benares,  a  forester,  named  Sura,  who  dwelt  in  the 
kingdom  of  Kasi,  went  to  the  Himalayas,  to  seek  for 
articles  of  merchandise.  There  was  a  certain  tree  there 
that  sprang  up  to  the  height  of  a  man  with  his  arms 
extended  over  his  head,  and  then  divided  into  three 
parts.  In  the  midst  of  its  three  forks  was  a  hole  as  big 
as  a  wine  jar,  and  when  it  rained  this  hole  was  filled  with 
water.  Round  about  it  grew  two  myrobalan  plants  and 
a  pepper  shrub  ;  and  the  ripe  fruits  from  these,  when  they 
were  cut  down,  fell  into  the  hole.  Not  far  from  this  tree 
was  some  self-sown  paddy.  The  parrots  would  pluck  the 
heads  of  rice  and  eat  them,  perched  on  this  tree.  And 
while  they  were  eating,  the  paddy  and  the  husked  rice  fell 
there.  So  the  water,  fermenting  through  the  sun's  heat, 
assumed  a  blood-red  colour.  In  the  hot  season  flocks 
of  birds,  being  thirsty,  drank  of  it,  and  becoming  intoxi- 
cated fell  down  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  and  after  sleeping 
awhile  flew  away,  chirping  merrily.  And  the  same  thing 
happened  in  the  case  of  wild  dogs,  monkeys  and  other 
creatures.  The  forester,  on  seeing  this,  said,  "If  this  were 
poison  they  would  die,  but  after  a  short  sleep  they  go 
away  as  they  list ;  it  is  no  poison."  And  he  himself  drank 
of  it,  and  becoming  intoxicated  he  felt  a  desire  to  eat 
flesh,  and  then  making  a  fire  he  killed  the  partridges  and 
cocks  that  fell  down  at  the  foot  of  the  tree,  and  roasted 
their  flesh  on  the  live  coals,  and  gesticulating  with  one 
hand,  and  eating  flesh  with  the  other,  he  remained  one  or 
two  days  in  the  same  spot.  Now  not  far  from  here  lived 
an  ascetic,  named  Varuna.  The  forester  at  other  times 
also  used  to  visit  him,  and  the  thought  now  struck  him, 

THE   EVILS   OF   STRONG  DRINK          391 

"I  will  drink  this  liquor  with  the  ascetic."  So  he  filled 
a  reed-pipe  with  it,  and  taking  it  together  with  some  roast 
meat  he  came  to  the  hut  of  leaves  and  said,  "  Holy  sir, 
taste  this  liquor,"  and  they  both  drank  it  and  ate  the 
meat.  So  from  the  fact  of  this  drink  having  been  dis- 
covered by  Sura  and  Varuna,  it  was  called  by  their  names 
(surd  and  vdrum).  They  both  thought,  "  This  is  the  way 
to  manage  it,"  and  they  filled  their  reed-pipes,  and  taking 
it  on  a  carrying-pole  they  came  to  a  neighbouring  village, 
and  sent  a  message  to  the  king  that  some  wine  merchants 
had  come.  The  king  sent  for  them  and  they  offered  him 
the  drink.  The  king  drank  it  two  or  three  times  and  got 
intoxicated.  This  lasted  him  only  one  or  two  days.  Then 
he  asked  them  if  there  was  any  more.  "  Yes,  sir,"  they 
said.  "  Where  ? "  "  In  the  Himalayas,  sir."  "  Then  bring 
it  here."  They  went  and  fetched  it  two  or  three  times. 
Then  thinking,  "We  can't  always  be  going  there,"  they 
took  note  of  all  the  constituent  parts,  and,  beginning 
with  the  bark  of  the  tree,  they  threw  in  all  the  other 
ingredients,  and  made  the  drink  in  the  city.  The  men 
of  the  city  drank  it  and  became  idle  wretches.  And  the 
place  became  like  a  deserted  city.  Then  these  wine 
merchants  fled  from  it  and  came  to  Benares,  and  sent 
a  message  to  the  king,  to  announce  their  arrival.  The 
king  sent  for  them  and  paid  them  money,  and  they  made 
wine  there  too.  And  that  city  also  perished  in  the  same 
way.  Thence  they  fled  to  Saketa,  and  from  Saketa  they 
came  to  Savatthi.  At  that  time  there  was  a  king  named 
Sabbamitta  in  Savatthi.  He  shewed  favour  to  these  men 
and  asked  them  what  they  wanted.  When  they  said, 
"  We  Avant  the  chief  ingredients  and  ground  rice  and  five 
hundred  jars,"  he  gave  them  everything  they  asked  for. 
So  they  stored  the  liquor  in  the  five  hundred  jars,  and,  to 


guard  them,  they  bound  cats,  one  to  each  jar.  And,  when 
the  liquor  fermented  and  began  to  escape,  the  cats  drank 
the  strong  drink  that  flowed  from  the  inside  of  the  jars, 
and  getting  intoxicated  they  lay  down  to  sleep ;  and  rats 
came  and  bit  off  the  cats'  ears,  noses,  teeth  and  tails. 
The  king's  officers  came  and  told  the  king,  "The  cats 
have  died  from  drinking  the  liquor."  The  king  said, 
"Surely  these  men  must  be  makers  of  poison,"  and  he 
ordered  them  both  to  be  beheaded,  and  they  died,  crying 
out,  "Give  us  strong  drink,  give  us  mead."  The  king, 
after  putting  the  men  to  death,  gave  orders  that  the  jars 
should  be  broken.  But  the  cats,  when  the  effect  of  the 
liquor  wore  off,  got  up  and  walked  about  and  played. 
When  they  saw  this,  they  told  the  king.  The  king  said, 
"  If  it  were  poison,  they  would  have  died ;  it  must  be 
mead ;  we  will  drink  it."  So  he  had  the  city  decorated, 
and  set  up  a  pavilion  in  the  palace  yard  and  taking  his 
seat  in  this  splendid  pavilion  on  a  royal  throne  with  a 
white  umbrella  raised  over  it,  and  surrounded  by  his 
courtiers,  he  began  to  drink.  Then  Sakka,  the  king  of 
the  gods,  said,  "  Who  are  there  that  in  the  duty  of  service 
to  mother  and  the  like  diligently  fulfil  the  three  kinds 
of  right  conduct  ? "  And,  looking  upon  the  world,  he  saw 
the  king  seated  to  drink  strong  drink  and  he  thought, 
"  If  he  shall  drink  strong  drink,  all  India  will  perish : 
1  will  *ee  that  he  shall  not  drink  it."  So,  placing  ajar  full 
of  the  liquor  in  the  palm  of  his  hand,  he  went,  disguised 
as  a  brahmin,  and  stood  in  the  air,  in  the  presence  of  the 
king,  and  cried,  "  Buy  this  jar,  buy  this  jar."  King 
Sabbamitta,  on  seeing  him  standing  in  the  air  and 
speaking  after  this  manner,  said,  "Whence  can  this 
brahmin  come  ? "  and  conversing  with  him  he  repeated 
three  stanzas : 


Who  art  thou,  Being'  from  on  high, 
Whose  form  emits  bright  rays  of  light, 

Like  levin  flash  athwart  the  sky, 
Or  moon  illuming  darkest  night? 

To  ride  the  pathless  air  upon, 

To  move  or  stand  in  silent  space- 
Real  is  the  power  that  thou  hast  won, 

And  proves  thou  art  of  godlike  race. 

Then,  brahmin,  who  thou  art  declare, 

And  what  within  thy  jar  may  be, 
That  thus  appearing  in  mid  air, 

Thou  fain  wouldst  sell  thy  wares  to  me. 

Then   Sakka   said,  "  Hearken  then   to   me,"  and,  ex- 
pounding the  evil  qualities  of  strong  drink,  he  said: 

This  jar  nor  oil  nor  ghee  doth  hold, 

No  honey  or  molasses  here, 
But  vices  more  than  can  be  told 

Are  stored  within  its  rounded  sphere. 

Who  drinks  will  fall,  poor  silly  fool, 

Into  some  hole  or  pit  impure, 
Or  headlong  sink  in  loathsome  pool 

And  eat  what  he  wrould  fain  abjure. 
Buy  then,  0  king,  this  jar  of  mine, 
Full  to  the  brini  of  strongest  wine1 — 

And  after  drinking  this,  I  ween, 

Andhakavenhu's  mighty  race, 
Koaining  along  the  shore,  were  seen 

To  fall,  each  by  his  kinsman's  mace. 
Buy  then  etc. 

The  Asuras  made  drunk  with  wine 

Fell  from  eternal  heaven,  O  king, 
With  all  their  magic  powrer  divine: 

Then  who  would  taste  the  accursed  thing? 
Buy  then  etc. 

Nor  curds  nor  honey  sweet  is  here, 

But  evermore  remembering 
What's  stored  within  this  rounded  sphere, 

Buy,  prithee,  buy  my  jar,  0  king. 

1  19  stanzas  describing  the  evil  effects  of  strong  drink  are  omitted. 


On  hearing  this  the  king,  recognizing  the  misery 
caused  by  drink,  was  so  pleased  with  Sakka  that  he 
sang  his  praises  in  two  stanzas : 

No  parents  had  I  sage  to  teach,  like  thee, 
But  thou  art  kind  and  merciful,  I  see; 
A  seeker  of  the  Highest  Truth  alway; 
Therefore  I  will  obey  thy  words  to-day. 

Lo!  five  choice  villages  I  own  are  thine, 
Twice  fifty  handmaids,  seven  hundred  kine, 
And  these  ten  cars  with  steeds  of  purest  blood, 
For  thou  hast  counselled  me  to  mine  own  good. 

Sakka  on  hearing  this  revealed  his  godhead  and 
made  himself  known,  and  standing  in  the  air  he  repeated 
two  stanzas : 

These  hundred  slaves,  0  king,  may  still  be  thine, 
And  eke  the  villages  and  herds  of  kiiie; 
No  chariots  yoked  to  high-bred  steeds  I  claim; 
Sakka,  chief  god  of  Thirty  Three,  my  name. 

Enjoy  thy  ghee,  rice,  milk  and  sodden  meat, 
Still  be  content  thy  honey  cakes  to  eat. 
Thus,  king,  delighting  in  the  Truths  I've  preached, 
Pursue  thy  blameless  path,  till  Heaven  is  reached. 

Thus  did  Sakka  admonish  him  and  then  returned  to 
his  abode  in  Heaven.  And  the  king,  abstaining  from 
strong  drink,  ordered  the  drinking  vessels  to  be  broken. 
And  undertaking  to  keep  the  precepts  and  dispensing 
alms,  he  became  destined  to  Heaven.  But  the  drinking 
of  strong  drink  gradually  developed  in  India. 

The  version  in  Jatakamdla  xvn.  does  not  give  the  legend  of  the  origin  of  strong 
drink.  Like  this  tale  it  retains  the  puranic  version  of  the  destruction  of  the 
sons  of  Andhakavenhu  (the  ten  slave  brethren)  by  strong  drink,  as  against  the  form 
of  the  story  in  Jilt.  454,  p.  323. 


Once  upon  a  time  eight  thousand  royal  elephants,  by 
the  exercise  of  supernatural  powers  moving  through  the 
air,  dwelt  near  lake  Chaddanta  in  the  Himalayas.  At 
this  time  the  Bodhisatta  came  to  life  as  the  son  of  the 
chief  elephant.  He  was  a  pure  white,  with  red  feet  and 
face.  By  and  by,  when  grown  up,  he  was  eighty-eight 
hands  high,  one  hundred  and  twenty  hands  long.  He  had 
a  trunk  like  to  a  silver  rope,  fifty-eight  hands  long,  and 
tusks  fifteen  hands  in  circumference,  thirty  hands  long,  and 
emitting  six-coloured  rays.  He  was  the  chief  of  a  herd 
of  eight  thousand  elephants  and  paid  honour  to  pacceka 
buddhas.  His  two  head  queens  were  Cullasubhadda  and 
Mahasubhadda.  The  king  elephant,  with  his  herd  num- 
bering eight  thousand,  took  up  his  abode  in  a  Golden 
Cave.  Now  lake  Chaddanta  was  fifty  leagues  long  and 
fifty  broad.  In  the  middle  of  it,  for  a  space  extending 
twelve  leagues,  no  sevala  or  panaka  plant  is  found,  and 
it  consists  of  water  in  appearance  like  a  magic  jewel. 
Next  to  this,  encircling  this  water,  wras  a  thicket  of  pure 
white  lilies,  a  league  in  breadth.  Next  to  this,  and  en- 
circling it,  wras  a  thicket  of  pure  blue  lotus,  a  league  in 
extent.  Then  came  white  and  red  lotuses,  red  and  white 
lilies,  and  white  esculent  lilies,  each  also  a  league  in  extent 
and  each  encircling  the  one  before.  Next  to  these  seven 
thickets  came  a  mixed  tangle  of  white  and  other  lilies, 
also  a  league  in  extent,  and  encircling  all  the  preceding- 
ones.  Next,  in  water  as  deep  as  elephants  can  stand  in, 
was  a  thicket  of  red  paddy.  Next,  at  the  edge  of  the 
water,  was  a  grove  of  small  shrubs,  abounding  in  delicate 
and  fragrant  blossoms  of  blue,  yellow,  red  and  white.  So 


these  ten  thickets  were  each  a  league  in  extent.  Next 
came  a  thicket  of  various  kinds  of  kidney  beans.  Next 
came  a  tangle  of  convolvulus,  cucumber,  pumpkin,  gourd 
and  other  creepers.  Then  a  grove  of  sugar-cane  of  the 
size  of  the  areca-nut  tree.  Then  a  grove  of  plantains  with 
fruit  as  big  as  elephant's  tusks.  Then  a  field  of  paddy. 
Then  a  grove  of  bread-fruit  of  the  size  of  a  water  jar. 
Next  a  grove  of  tamarinds  with  luscious  fruit.  Then  a 
grove  of  elephant-apple  trees.  Then  a  great  forest  of 
different  kinds  of  trees.  Then  a  bamboo  grove.  Such 
at  this  time  was  the  magnificence  of  this  region — its 
present  magnificence  is  described  in  the  Samyutta  Com- 
mentary— but  surrounding  the  bamboo  grove  were  seven 
mountains.  Starting  from  the  extreme  outside  first  came 
Little  Black  Mountain,  next  Great  Black  Mountain,  then 
Water  Mountain,  Moon  Mountain,  Sim  Mountain,  Jewel 
Mountain,  then  the  seventh  in  order  Golden  Mountain. 
This  was  seven  leagues  in  height,  rising  all  round  the  lake 
Chaddanta,  like  the  rim  of  a  bowl.  The  inner  side  of  it 
was  of  a  golden  colour.  From  the  light  that  issued  from 
it  lake  Chaddanta  shone  like  the  newly  risen  sun.  But 
of  the  outer  mountains,  one  was  six  leagues  in  height,  one 
five,  one  four,  one  three,  one  two,  one  a  single  league  in 
height.  Now  in  the  north-east  corner  of  the  lake,  thus 
girt  about  with  seven  mountains,  in  a  spot  where  the  wind 
fell  upon  the  water,  grew  a  big  banyan  tree.  Its  trunk 
was  five  leagues  in  circumference  and  seven  leagues  in 
height.  Four  branches  spread  six  leagues  to  the  four 
points  of  the  compass,  and  the  branch  which  rose  straight 
upwards  was  six  leagues.  So  from  the  root  upwards  it 
Avas  thirteen  leagues  in  height,  and  from  the  extremity  of 
the  branches  in  one  direction  to  the  extremity  of  the 
branches  in  the  opposite  direction  it  was  twelve  leagues. 


And  the  tree  was  furnished  with  eight  thousand  shoots 
and  stood  forth  in  all  its  beauty,  like  to  the  bare  Jewel 
Mount.  But  on  the  west  side  of  lake  Chaddanta,  in  the 
Golden  Mount,  was  a  golden  cave,  twelve  leagues  in 
extent.  Chaddanta  the  elephant  king,  with  his  following 
of  eight  thousand  elephants,  in  the  rainy  season  lived  in 
the  golden  cave;  in  the  hot  season  he  stood  at  the  foot 
of  the  great  banyan  tree,  amongst  its  shoots,  welcoming 
the  breeze  from  off  the  water.  Now  one  day  they  told 
him,  "  The  great  Sal  grove  is  in  flower."  So  attended  by 
his  herd  he  was  minded  to  disport  himself  in  the  Sal 
grove,  and  going  thither  he  struck  with  his  frontal  globe 
a  Sal  tree  in  full  bloom.  At  that  moment  Cullasubhadda 
stood  to  windward,  and  dry  twigs  mixed  with  dead  leaves 
and  red  ants  fell  upon  her  person.  But  Mahasubhadda 
stood  to  leeward,  and  flowers  with  pollen  and  stalks  and 
green  leaves  fell  on  her.  Thought  Cullasubhadda,  "He 
let  fall  on  the  wife  dear  to  him  flowers  and  pollen  and 
fresh  stalks  and  leaves,  but  on  my  person  he  dropped  a 
mixture  of  dry  twigs,  dead  leaves  and  red  ants.  Well, 
I  shall  know  what  to  do ! "  And  she  conceived  a  grudge 
against  the  Great  Being.  Another  day  the  king  elephant 
and  his  attendant  herd  went  down  to  lake  Chaddanta  to 
bathe.  Then  two  young  elephants  took  bundles  of  uslra 
root  in  their  trunks  and  gave  him  a  bath,  rubbing  him 
down  as  it  were  mount  Kelasa.  And  when  he  came  out 
of  the  water,  they  bathed  the  two  queen  elephants,  and 
they  too  came  out  of  the  water  and  stood  before  the 
Great  Being.  Then  the  eight  thousand  elephants  entered 
the  lake  and,  disporting  themselves  in  the  water,  plucked 
various  flowers  from  the  lake,  and  adorned  the  Great 
Being  as  if  it  had  been  a  silver  shrine,  and  afterwards 
adorned  the  queen  elephants.  Then  a  certain  elephant, 


as  he  swam  about  the  lake,  gathered  a  large  lotus  with 
seven  shoots  and  offered  it  to  the  Great  Being.  And  he, 
taking  it  in  his  trunk,  sprinkled  the  pollen  on  his  fore- 
head and  presented  the  flower  to  the  chief  elephant, 
Mahasubhadda.  On  seeing  this  her  rival  said,  "This 
lotus  with  seven  shoots  he  also  gives  to  his  favourite 
queen  and  not  to  me,"  and  again  she  conceived  a  grudge 
against  him.  Now  one  day  when  the  Bodhisatta  had 
dressed  luscious  fruits  and  lotus  stalks  and  fibres  with  the 
nectar  of  the  flower,  and  was  entertaining  five  hundred 
pacceka  buddhas,  Cullasubhadda  offered  the  wild  fruits 
she  had  got  to  the  pacceka  buddhas,  and  she  put  up  a 
prayer  to  this  effect :  "  Hereafter,  when  I  pass  hence,  may 
I  be  re-born  as  the  royal  maiden  Subhadda  in  the  Madda 
king's  family,  and  on  coming  of  age  may  I  attain  to  the 
dignity  of  queen  consort  to  the  king  of  Benares.  Then 
I  shall  be  dear  and  charming  in  his  eyes,  and  in  a  position 
to  do  what  I  please.  So  I  will  speak  to  the  king  and 
send  a  hunter  with  a  poisoned  arrow  to  wound  and  slay 
this  elephant.  And  thus  may  I  be  able  to  have  brought 
to  me  a  pair  of  his  tusks  that  emit  six-coloured  rays." 
Thenceforth  she  took  no  food  and  pining  away  in  no  long 
time  she  died,  and  came  to  life  again  as  the  child  of  the 
queen  consort  in  the  Madda  kingdom,  and  was  named 
Subhadda.  And  when  she  was  of  a  suitable  age,  they 
gave  her  in  marriage  to  the  king  of  Benares.  And  she 
was  dear  and  pleasing  in  his  eyes,  and  the  chief  of  sixteen 
thousand  wives.  And  she  recalled  to  mind  her  former 
existences  and  thought,  "  My  prayer  is  fulfilled ;  now  will 
I  have  this  elephant's  tusks  brought  to  me."  Then  she 
anointed  her  body  with  common  oil,  put  on  a  soiled  robe, 
and  lay  in  bed  pretending  to  be  sick.  The  king  said, 
"Where  is  Subhadda?"  And  hearing  that  she  was  sick, 


he  entered  the  royal  closet  and  sitting  on  the  bed  he 
stroked  her  back  and  uttered  the  first  stanza : 

Large-eyed  and  peerless  one,  my  queen,  so  pale,  to  grief  a  prey, 
Like  wreath  that's  trampled  under  foot,  why  fadest  thou  away  ? 

On  hearing  this  she  spoke  the  second  stanza : 

As  it  would  seem,  all  in  a  dream,  a  longing-  sore  I  had; 
My  wish  is  vain  this  boon  to  gain,  and  that  is  why  I'm  sad. 

The  king,  on  hearing  this,  spoke  a  stanza : 

All  joys  to  which  in  this  glad  world  a  mortal  may  aspire, 
Whate'er  they  want  is  mine  to  grant,  I  give  thee  thy  desire. 

On  hearing  this  the  queen  said,  "  Great  king,  my  desire 
is  hard  to  attain ;  I  will  not  now  say  what  it  is,  but  I  would 
have  all  the  hunters  that  there  are  in  your  kingdom 
gathered  together.  Then  will  I  tell  it  in  the  midst  of 
them."  And  to  explain  her  meaning,  she  spoke  the  next 
stanza : 

Let  hunters  all  obey  thy  call,  within  this  realm  who  dwell, 
And  what  I  fain  from  them  would  gain,  I'll  in  their  presence  tell. 

The  king  agreed,  and  issuing  forth  from  the  royal 
chamber  he  gave  orders  to  his  ministers,  saying,  "Have 
it  proclaimed  by  beat  of  drum  that  all  the  hunters  that 
are  in  the  kingdom  of  Kasi,  three  hundred  leagues  in 
extent,  are  to  assemble."  They  did  so,  and  in  no  long 
time  the  hunters  that  dwelt  in  the  kingdom  of  Kasi, 
bringing  a  present  according  to  their  means,  had  their 
arrival  announced  to  the  king.  Now  they  amounted  in 
all  to  about  sixty  thousand.  And  the  king,  hearing  that 
they  had  come,  stood  at  an  open  window  and  stretching 
forth  his  hand  he  told  the  queen  of  their  arrival  and  said: 

Here  then  behold  our  hunters  bold,  well  trained  in  veuery, 
Theirs  is  the  skill  wild  beasts  to  kill,  and  all  would  die  for  me. 


The  queen,  on  hearing  this,  addressed  them  and  spoke 
another  stanza : 

Ye  hunters  bold,  assembled  here, 
Unto  my  words,  I  pray,  give  ear: 
Dreaming,  methought  an  elephant  I  saw, 
Six-tusked1  and  white  without  a  flaw: 
His  tusks  I  crave  and  fain  would  have ; 
Nought  else  avails  my  life  to  save. 

The  hunters,  on  hearing  this,  replied : 

Ne'er  did  our  sires  in  times  of  old 
A  six-tusked  elephant  behold : 
Tell  us  what  kind  of  beast  might  be 
That  which  appeared  in  dreams  to  thee. 

After  this  still  another  stanza  was  spoken  by  them : 

Four  points,  North,  South,  East,  West,  one  sees, 

Four  intermediate  are  to  these, 

Nadir  and  zenith  add,  and  then 

Say  at  which  point  of  all  the  ten 

This  royal  elephant  might  be, 

That  in  a  dream  appeared  to  thee. 

After  these  words  Subhadda,  looking  at  all  the  hunters, 
spied  amongst  them  one  that  was  broad  of  foot,  with  a 
calf  swollen  like  a  food  basket,  big  in  the  knee  and  ribs, 
thick-bearded,  with  yellow  teeth,  disfigured  with  scars, 
head  and  shoulders  above  all,  an  ugly,  hulking  fellow, 
named  Sonuttara,  who  had  once  been  an  enemy  of  the 
Great  Being.  And  she  thought,  "He  will  be  able  to  do 
my  bidding,"  and  with  the  king's  permission  she  took  him 
with  her  and,  climbing  to  the  highest  floor  of  the  seven- 
storeyed  palace,  she  threw  open  a  window  to  the  North, 
and  stretching  forth  her  hand  towards  the  Northern 
Himalayas  she  uttered  four  stanzas: 

1  The  Scholiast  explains  chal>l>ix<~iii«  (Sanskrit  x/i<i<//-i.*fitlna\  six-tusked,  as 
chabbanna-risdna,  six-coloured  tusks,  perhaps  more  completely  to  identify  the  hero 
of  the  story  with  the  Buddha,  The  halo  of  the  Buddha  was  of  six-coloured  rays. 


Due  north,  beyond  seven  mountains  vast, 
One  conies  to  Golden  Cliff  at  last, 
A  height  by  goblin  forms  possessed 
And  bright  with  flowers  from  foot  to  crest. 

Beneath  this  goblin  peak  is  seen 
A  cloud-shaped  mass  of  darkest  green, 
A  royal  banyan  tree  whose  roots 
Yield  vigour  to  eight  thousand  shoots. 

There  dwells  invincible  in  might 
This  elephant,  six-tusked  and  white, 
With  herd  eight  thousand  strong  for  fight. 
Their  tusks  to  chariot-poles  are  like, 
Wind-swift  are  they  to  guard  or  strike. 

Panting  and  grim  they  stand  and  glare, 
Provoked  by  slightest  breath  of  air, 
If  they  one  born  of  man  should  see, 
Their  wrath  consumes  him  utterly. 

Souuttara  on  hearing  this  was  terrified  to  death  and 


Turquoise  or  pearls  of  brilliant  sheen, 
With  many  a  gold  adornment,  queen, 
In  royal  houses  may  be  seen. 
What  wouldst  thou  then  with  ivory  do, 
Or  wilt  thou  slay  these  hunters  true? 

Then  the  queen  spoke  a  stanza : 

Consumed  with  grief  and  spite  am  I, 
When  I  recall  my  injury. 
Grant  me,  0  hunter,  what  I  crave, 
And  five  choice  hamlets  thou  shalt  have. 

And  with  this  she  said,  "Friend  hunter,  when  I  gave 
a  gift  to  the  pacceka  buddhas,  I  offered  up  a  prayer  that 
I  might  have  it  in  my  power  to  kill  this  six-tusked  elephant 
and  get  possession  of  a  pair  of  his  tusks.  This  was  not 
merely  seen  by  me  in  a  vision,  but  the  prayer  that  I 
offered  up  will  be  fulfilled.  Do  thou  go  and  fear  not." 
And  so  saying  she  reassured  him.  And  he  agreed  to  her 

F.  &  T.  26 


words  and  said,  "So  be  it,  lady;  but  first  make  it  clear 
to  me  and  tell  me  where  is  his  dwelling-place,"  and  en- 
quiring of  her  he  spoke  this  stanza : 

Where  dwells  he?    Where  may  he  be  found? 
What  road  is  his,  for  bathing  bound? 
Where  does  this  royal  creature  swim  ? 
Tell  us  the  way  to  capture  him. 

Then  by  recalling  her  former  existence  she  clearly  saw 
the  spot  and  told  him  of  it  in  these  two  stanzas : 

Not  far  this  bathing-place  of  his, 

A  deep  and  goodly  pool  it  is, 

There  bees  do  swarm  and  flowers  abound, 

And  there  this  royal  beast  is  found. 

Now  lotus-crowned,  fresh  from  his  bath, 
He  gladly  takes  his  homeward  path, 
As  lily-white  and  tall  he  moves 
Behind  the  queen  he  fondly  loves. 

Sonuttara  on  hearing  this  agreed,  saying,  "  Well,  lady, 
I  will  kill  the  elephant  and  bring  you  his  tusks."  Then 
in  her  joy  she  gave  him  a  thousand  pieces  and  said,  "  Go 
home  meanwhile,  and  at  the  end  of  seven  days  you  shall 
set  out  thither,"  and  dismissing  him  she  summoned  smiths 
and  gave  them  an  order  and  said,  "Sirs,  we  have  need 
.of  an  axe,  a  spade,  an  auger,  a  hammer,  an  instrument 
for  cutting  bamboos,  a  grass-cutter,  an  iron  staff,  a  peg, 
an  iron  three-pronged  fork ;  make  them  with  all  speed 
and  bring  them  to  us."  And  sending  for  workers  in 
leather,  she  charged  them,  saying,  "  Sirs,  you  must  make 
us  a  leather  sack,  the  size  of  a  hogshead  measure;  we 
need  leather  ropes  and  straps,  shoes  big  enough  for 
an  elephant,  and  a  leather  parachute:  make  them  with 
all  speed  and  bring  them  to  us."  And  both  smiths  and 
workers  in  leather  quickly  made  everything  and  brought 
and  offered  them  to  her.  Having  provided  everything 


requisite  for  the  journey,  together  with  fire-drills  and  the 
like,  she  put  all  the  appliances  and  necessaries  for  the 
journey,  such  as  baked  meal  and  so  forth,  in  the  leather 
sack.  The  whole  of  it  came  to  about  a  hogshead  in  size. 
And  Sonuttara,  having  completed  his  arrangements, 
arrived  on  the  seventh  day  and  stood  respectfully  in  the 
presence  of  the  queen.  Then  she  said,  "  Friend,  all  ap- 
pliances for  your  journey  are  completed :  take  then  this 
sack."  And  he  being  a  stout  knave,  as  strong  as  five 
elephants,  caught  up  the  sack  as  if  it  had  been  a  bag  of 
cakes,  and  placing  it  on  his  hips,  stood  as  it  were  with 
empty  hands.  Cullasubhadda  gave  the  provisions  to  the 
hunter's  attendants  and,  telling  the  king,  dismissed  Sonut- 
tara. And  he,  with  an  obeisance  to  the  king  and  queen, 
descended  from  the  palace  and,  placing  his  goods  in  a 
chariot,  set  out  from  the  city  with  a  great  retinue,  and 
passing  through  a  succession  of  villages  and  hamlets 
reached  the  frontiers.  Then  he  turned  back  the  people 
of  the  country  and  went  on  with  the  dwellers  on  the 
borders  till  he  entered  the  forest,  and  passing  beyond 
the  haunts  of  men  he  sent  back  the  border  people  too, 
and  proceeded  quite  alone  on  a  road  to  a  distance  of 
thirty  leagues,  traversing  a  dense  growth  of  kusa  and 
other  grasses,  thickets  of  basil,  reeds  and  rest-harrow, 
clumps  of  thick-thorn  and  canes,  thickets  of  mixed  growth, 
jungles  of  reed  and  cane,  dense  forest  growth,  impenetrable 
even  to  a  snake,  thickets  of  trees  and  bamboos,  tracts  of 
mud  and  water,  mountain  tracts,  eighteen  regions  in  all, 
one  after  another.  The  jungles  of  grass  he  cut  with  a 
sickle,  the  thickets  of  basil  and  the  like  he  cleared  with 
his  instrument  for  cutting  bamboos,  the  trees  he  felled 
with  an  axe,  and  the  oversized  ones  he  first  pierced  with 
an  auger.  Then,  pursuing  his  way,  he  fashioned  a  ladder 



in  the  bamboo  grove  and  climbing  to  the  top  of  the 
thicket,  he  laid  a  single  bamboo,  which  he  had  cut,  over 
the  next  clump  of  bamboos,  and  thus  creeping  along  on 
the  top  of  the  thicket  he  reached  a  morass.  Then  he 
spread  a  dry  plank  on  the  mud,  and  stepping  on  it  he 
threw  another  plank  before  him  and  so  crossed  the  morass. 
Then  he  made  a  canoe  and  by  means  of  it  crossed  the 
flooded  region,  and  at  last  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  moun- 
tains. Then  he  bound  a  three-pronged  grappling-iron 
with  a  rope  and  flinging  it  aloft  he  caused  it  to  lodge  fast 
in  the  mountain.  Then  climbing  up  by  the  rope  he  drilled 
the  mountain  with  an  iron  staff  tipped  with  adamant, 
and  knocking  a  peg  into  the  hole  he  stood  on  it.  Then 
drawing  out  the  grappling-iron  he  once  more  lodged  it 
high  up  on  the  mountain,  and  from  this  position  letting 
the  leather  rope  hang  down,  he  took  hold  of  it  and 
descended  and  fastened  the  rope  on  the  peg  below.  Then 
seizing  the  rope  with  his  left  hand  and  taking  a  hammer 
in  his  right  he  struck  a  blow  on  the  rope,  and  having 
thus  pulled  out  the  peg  he  once  more  climbed  up.  In 
this  way  he  mounted  to  the  top  of  the  first  mountain  and 
then  commencing  his  descent  on  the  other  side,  having 
knocked  as  before  a  peg  into  the  top  of  the  first  mountain 
and  bound  the  rope  on  his  leather  sack  and  wrapped  it 
round  the  peg,  he  sat  within  the  sack  and  let  himself 
down,  uncoiling  the  rope  like  a  spider  letting  out  his 
thread.  Then  letting  his  leather  parachute  catch  the 
wind,  he  went  down  like  a  bird — so  at  least  they  say. 
(Thus  did  the  Master  tell  how  in  obedience  to  Subhadda's 
words  the  hunter  sallied  forth  from  the  city  and  traversed 
seventeen  different  tracts  till  he  reached  a  mountainous 
region,  and  how  he  there  crossed  over  six  mountains  and 
climbed  to  the  top  of  Golden  Cliff: 


The  hunter  hearing,  unalarmed, 
Set  forth  with  bow  and  quiver  armed, 
And  crossing  o'er  seven  mountains  vast 
Beached  noble  Golden  Cliff  at  last. 

Gaining  the  goblin-haunted  height, 

What  cloud-shaped  mass  bursts  on  his  sight? 

A  royal  banyan  'tis  whose  roots 

Support  eight  thousand  spreading  shoots. 

There  stood  invincible  in  might 

An  elephant  six-tusked  and  white, 

With  herd  eight  thousand  strong  for  fight; 

Their  tusks  to  chariot-poles  are  like: 

Wind-swift  are  they  to  guard  or  strike. 

Hard  by  a  pool — 'tis  full  to  the  brim, 
Fit  place  for  royal  beast  to  swim; 
Its  lovely  banks  with  flowers  abound 
And  buzzing  bees  swarm  all  around. 

Marking  the  way  the  creature  went 
Whene'er  on  bathing  thought  intent, 
He  sunk  a  pit,  to  deed  so  mean 
Urged  by  the  wrath  of  spiteful  queen.) 

Here  continues  the  regular  story:  the  hunter,  it  is 
said,  after  seven  years,  seven  months  and  seven  days, 
having  reached  the  dwelling-place  of  the  Great  Being  in 
the  manner  related  above,  took  note  of  his  dwelling-place 
and  dug  a  pit  there,  thinking,  "  I  will  take  my  stand  here 
and  wound  the  lord  of  elephants  and  bring  about  his 
death."  Thus  did  he  arrange  matters  and  went  into  the 
forest  and  cut  down  trees  to  make  posts  and  prepared  a 
lot  of  kusa-grass.  Then  when  the  elephants  went  to  bathe, 
in  the  spot  where  the  king  elephant  used  to  stand,  he  dug 
a  square  pit  with  a  huge  mattock,  and  the  soil  that  he  dug 
out  he  sprinkled  on  the  top  of  the  water,  as  if  he  were 
sowing  seed,  and  on  the  top  of  stones  like  mortars  he  fixed 
posts,  and  fitted  them  with  weights  and  ropes  and  spread 
planks  over  them.  Next  he  made  a  hole  of  the  size  of  an 


arrow  and  threw  on  the  top  earth  and  rubbish,  and  on  one 
side  he  made  an  entrance  for  himself,  and  so,  when  the  pit 
was  finished,  at  break  of  day  he  fastened  on  a  false  top 
knot  and  donned  robes  of  yellow  and,  taking  his  bow  and 
a  poisoned  arrow,  he  went  down  and  stood  in  the  pit. 

(The  Master,  to  make  the  whole  thing  clear,  said1 : 

The  pit  with  planks  he  first  did  hide, 
Then  bow  in  hand  he  got  inside, 
And  as  the  elephant  passed  by, 
A  mighty  shaft  the  wretch  let  fly. 

The  wounded  beast  loud  roared  with  pain, 
And  all  the  herd  roared  back  again: 
Crushed  boughs  and  trampled  grass  betray 
Where  panic  flight  directs  their  way. 

Their  lord  had  well  nigh  slain  his  foe, 
So  mad  with  pain  was  he,  when  lo! 
A  robe  of  yellow  met  his  eyes, 
Emblem  of  sainthood,  sage's  guise 
And  deemed  inviolate  by  the  wise.) 

The  Great  Being,  falling  into  conversation  with  the 
hunter,  spoke  a  couple  of  stanzas: 

Whoso  is  marred  with  sinful  taint 
And  void  of  truth  and  self-restraint, 
Though  robed  in  yellow  he  may  be, 
The  yellow  dress  deserves  not  he. 

But  one  that's  free  from  sinful  taint, 
Endued  with  truth  and  self-restraint, 
And  firmly  fixed  in  righteousness, 
Deserves  to  wear  the  yellow  dress. 

So  saying,  the  Great  Being,  extinguishing  all  feeling 
of  anger  towards  him,  asked  him,  saying,  "Why  did  you 
wound  me  ?  Was  it  for  your  own  advantage  or  were  you 
suborned  by  some  one  else  ? " 

1  The  commentator  adds  this  to  make  it  clear  that  the  verses  that  follow  are  part 
of  the  narrative,  and  not  spoken  by  characters  in  the  tale.     Similarly  on  p.  405. 


Then  the  hunter  told  him  and  uttered  this^stanza : 

The  king-  of  Kasi's  favoured  queen 
Subhadda  told  me  she  had  seen 
Thy  form  in  dreams,  "and  so,"  said  she, 
"  I  want  his  tusks ;  go,  bring1  them  me." 

Hearing-  this,  and  recognizing-  that  this  was  the  work 
of  Cullasubhadda,  he  bore  his  sufferings  patiently  and 
thought,  "She  does  not  want  my  tusks;  she  sent  him 
because  she  wished  to  kill  me,"  and,  to  illustrate  the 
matter,  he  uttered  a  couple  of  stanzas : 

Rich  store  of  goodly  tusks  have  I, 
Relics  of  my  dead  ancestry, 
And  this  well  knows  that  wrathful  dame, 
'Tis  at  my  life  the  wretch  doth  aim. 

Rise,  hunter,  and  or  ere  I  die, 

Saw  off  these  tusks  of  ivory: 

Go  bid  the  shrew  be  of  good  cheer, 

"The  beast  is  slain;  his  tusks  are  here." 

Hearing  his  words  the  hunter  rose  up  from  the  place 
where  he  was  sitting  and,  saw  in  hand,  came  close  to  him 
to  cut  off  his  tusks.  Now  the  elephant,  being  eighty-eight 
hands  high,  like  a  mountain,  was  not  thrown  down.  Hence 
the  man  could  not  reach  to  his  tusks.  So  the  Great 
Being,  bending  his  body  towards  him,  lay  with  his  head 
down.  Then  the  hunter  climbed  up  the  trunk  of  the 
Great  Being,  pressing  it  with  his  feet  as  though  it  were 
a  silver  rope,  and  stood  on  his  forehead  as  if  it  had  been 
Kelasa  peak.  Then  he  inserted  his  foot  into  his  mouth, 
and  striking  the  fleshy  part  of  it  with  his  knee,  he  climbed 
down  from  the  beast's  forehead  and  thrust  the  saw  into 
his  mouth.  The  Great  Being  suffered  excruciating  pain 
and  his  mouth  was  charged  with  blood.  The  hunter, 
shifting  about  from  place  to  place,  was  still  unable  to  cut 
the  tusks  with  his  saw.  So  the  Great  Being  letting  the 


blood  drop  from  his  mouth,  resigning  himself  to  the 
agony,  asked,  saying,  "  Sir,  cannot  you  cut  them  ? "  And 
on  his  saying  "No,"  he  recovered  his  presence  of  mind 
and  said,  "Well  then,  since  I  myself  have  not  strength 
enough  to  raise  my  trunk,  do  you  lift  it  up  for  me  and  let 
it  seize  the  end  of  the  saw/'  The  hunter  did  so :  and  the 
Great  Being  seized  the  saw  with  his  trunk  and  moved  it 
backwards  and  forwards,  and  the  tusks  were  cut  oft*  as  it 
were  sprouts.  Then  bidding  him  take  the  tusks,  he  said, 
"  I  don't  give  you  these,  friend  hunter,  because  I  do  not 
value  them,  nor  as  one  desiring  the  position  of  Sakka, 
Mara  or  Brahma,  but  the  tusks  of  omniscience  are  a 
hundred  thousand  times  dearer  to  me  than  these  are, 
and  may  this  meritorious  act  be  to  me  the  cause  of 
attaining  Omniscience."  And  as  he  gave  him  the  tusks, 
he  asked,  "  How  long  were  you  coining  here  ? "  "  Seven 
years,  seven  months,  and  seven  days."  "  Go  then  by  the 
magic  power  of  these  tusks,  and  you  shall  reach  Benares 
in  seven  days."  And  he  gave  him  a  safe  conduct  and  let 
him  go.  And  after  he  had  sent  him  away,  before  the  other 
elephants  and  Subhadda  had  returned,  he  was  dead. 

When  he  was  gone,  the  herd  of  elephants  not  finding 
their  enemy  came  back. 

And  with  them  also  came  Subhadda,  and  they  all  then 


and  there  with  weeping  and  lamentation  betook  them  to 
the  pacceka  buddhas  who  had  been  so  friendly  to  the 
Great  Being,  and  said,  "Sirs,  he  who  supplied  you  with 
the  necessaries  of  life  has  died  from  the  wound  of  a 
poisoned  arrow.  Come  and  see  where  his  dead  body  is 
exposed. "  And  the  five  hundred  pacceka  buddhas  passing 
through  the  air  alighted  in  the  sacred  enclosure.  At  that 
moment  two  young  elephants,  lifting  up  the  body  of  the 
king  elephant  with  their  tusks,  and  so  causing  it  to  do 


homage  to  the  pacceka  buddhas,  raised  it  aloft  on  a  pyre 
and  burned  it.  The  pacceka  buddhas  all  through  the 
night  rehearsed  scripture  texts  in  the  cemetery.  The 
eight  thousand  elephants,  after  extinguishing  the  flames, 
first  bathed  and  then,  with  Subhadda  at  their  head, 
returned  to  their  place  of  abode. 

And   Sonuttara  within  seven  davs  reached   Benares 


with  his  tusks. 

Now  in  offering  them  to  the  queen,  he  said,  "  Lady,  the 
elephant,  against  whom  you  conceived  a  grudge  in  your 
heart  for  a  trifling  offence,  has  been  slain  by  me."  "Do 
you  tell  me  that  he  is  dead?"  she  cried.  And  he  gave 
her  the  tusks,  saying,  "  Be  assured  that  he  is  dead :  here 
are  his  tusks."  She  received  the  tusks  adorned  with  six 
different  coloured  rays  on  her  jewelled  fan,  and,  placing 
them  on  her  lap,  gazed  at  the  tusks  of  one  who  in  a  former 
existence  had  been  her  dear  lord  and  she  thought,  "  This 
fellow  has  come  with  the  tusks  he  cut  from  the  auspicious 
elephant  that  he  slew  with  a  poisoned  shaft."  And  at  the 
remembrance  of  the  Great  Being  she  was  filled  with  so 
great  sorrow  that  she  could  not  endure  it,  but  her  heart 
then  and  there  was  broken  and  that  very  day  she  died. 

Feer  in  Journ.  As.  1895,  N.  S.  v.  p.  31  ff.  gives  a  study  of  this  jataka  comparing 
it  with  Jat.  72,  122,  267,  455,  Jatakamdla  xxxi,  and  five  versions.  See  a  description 
of  the  mountain  climbing  in  The  Earliest  Rock-Climb  by  Mrs  Rhys  Davids,  Alpine 
Journ.  May  1891  (JPTS.  1897—1901,  p.  80  ff.).  It  is  illustrated  on  the  Bharhut 
Stupa,  pi.  xxvi.  6. 


Once  upon  a  time  Brahmadatta  ruled  in  Benares  and 
had  no  heir,  and  his  prayer  for  a  son  or  daughter  was  not 
answered.  Now  one  day  he  went  with  a  large  escort  to 
his  park  and  after  amusing  himself  a  part  of  the  day  in 


the  grounds  he  had  a  couch  spread  for  him  at  the  foot  of 
the  royal  sal  tree,  and  after  a  short  nap  he  awoke  and, 
looking  up  to  the  sal  tree,  he  beheld  a  bird's  nest  in  it,  and 
at  the  sight  of  it  a  desire  to  possess  it  sprang  up  in  his 
heart,  and  summoning  one  of  his  attendants  he  said, 
"  Climb  the  tree  and  see  if  there  is  anything  in  the  nest 
or  not."  The  man  climbed  up  and  finding  three  eggs  in 
it  told  the  king.  "Then  mind  vou  do  not  breathe  over 


them,"  he  said,  and,  spreading  some  cotton  in  a  casket,  he 
told  the  man  to  come  down  gently,  and  place  the  eggs  in 
it.  When  they  had  been  brought  down,  he  took  up  the 
casket  and  asked  his  courtiers  to  what  bird  these  eggs 
belonged.  They  answered,  "  We  do  not  know :  hunters 
will  know."  The  king  sent  for  the  hunters  and  asked 
them.  "  Sire,"  said  they,  "  one  is  an  owl's  egg,  another  is 
a  maynah  bird's,  and  the  third  is  a  parrot's."  "  Pray  are 
there  eggs  of  three  different  birds  in  one  nest  ? "  "  Yes, 
Sire,  when  there  is  nothing  to  fear,  what  is  carefully 
deposited  does  not  perish."  The  king  being  pleased  said, 
"  They  shall  be  my  children,"  and  committing  the  three 
eggs  to  the  charge  of  three  courtiers,  he  said,  "  These  shall 
be  my  children.  Do  you  carefully  watch  over  them  and 
when  the  young  birds  come  out  of  the  shell,  let  me  know." 
They  took  good  care  of  them.  First  of  all  the  owl's  egg 
was  hatched,  and  the  courtier  sent  for  a  hunter  and  said, 
"  Find  out  the  sex  of  the  young  bird,  whether  it  is  a  cock 
or  a  hen  bird,"  and  when  he  had  examined  it  and  declared 
it  to  be  a  cock  bird,  the  courtier  went  to  the  king  and  said, 
"  Sire,  a  son  is  born  to  you."  The  king  was  delighted  and 
bestowed  much  wealth  on  him  and  saying,  "  Watch  care- 
fully over  him  and  call  his  name  Vessantara,"  he  sent  him 
away.  He  did  as  he  was  told.  Then  a  few  days  afterwards 
the  egg  of  the  maynah  bird  was  hatched,  and  the  second 


courtier  likewise,  after  getting  the  huntsman  to  examine 
it,  and  hearing  it  was  a  hen  bird,  went  to  the  king  and 
announced  to  him  the  birth  of  a  daughter.  The  king  was 
delighted,  and  gave  to  him  also  much  treasure  and  saying, 
"Watch  carefully  over  my  daughter  and  call  her  name 
Kundalim,"  he  sent  him  away.  He  also  did  what  he  was 
told.  Then  after  a  few  days  the  parrot's  egg  wTas  hatched 
and  the  third  courtier,  when  told  by  the  huntsman  who 
examined  it  that  it  was  a  cock  bird,  went  and  announced 
to  the  king  the  birth  of  a  son.  The  king  was  delighted 
and  paying  him  liberally  said,  "  Hold  a  festival  in  honour 
of  my  son  with  great  pomp,  and  call  his  name  Jambuka," 
and  then  sent  him  awray.  He  too  did  as  he  was  told. 
And  these  three  birds  grew  up  in  the  houses  of  the  three 
courtiers  with  all  the  ceremony  due  to  princes.  The  king 
spoke  of  them  habitually,  as  '  my  son '  and  '  my  daughter.' 
His  courtiers  made  merry,  one  with  another,  saying,  "  Look 
at  what  the  king  does :  he  goes  about  speaking  of  birds  as 
his  son  and  his  daughter."  The  king  thought,  "These 
courtiers  do  not  know  the  extent  of  my  children's  wisdom. 
I  will  make  it  evident  to  them."  So  he  sent  one  of  his 
ministers  to  Vessantara  to  say,  "  Your  father  wishes  to  ask 
you  a  question.  When  shall  he  come  and  ask  it  ? '  The 
minister  came  and  bowing  to  Vessantara  delivered  the 
message.  Vessantara  sent  for  the  courtier  who  looked 
after  him  and  said,  "My  father,"  they  tell  me,  "wants  to 
ask  me  a  question.  When  he  comes,  we  must  shew  him 
all  respect,"  and  he  asked  "  When  is  he  to  come  ? "  The 
courtier  said,  "Let  him  come  on  the  seventh  dav  from 


this."  Vessantara  on  hearing  this  said,  "Let  my  father 
come  on  the  seventh  day  from  this,"  and  with  these  words 
he  sent  the  minister  away.  He  wrent  and  told  the  king. 
On  the  seventh  day  the  king  ordered  a  drum  to  be  beaten 


through  the  citv  and  went  to  the  house  where  his  son 


lived.  Vessantara  treated  the  king  with  great  respect 
and  had  great  respect  paid  even  to  the  slaves  and  hired 
servants.  The  king,  after  partaking  of  food  in  the  house 
of  Vessantara,  and  enjoying  great  distinction,  returned  to 
his  own  dwelling-place.  Then  he  had  a  big  pavilion 
erected  in  the  palace-yard,  and,  having  made  proclamation 
by  beating  a  drum  through  the  city,  he  sat  in  his  magni- 
ficent pavilion  surrounded  by  a  great  retinue  and  sent 
word  to  a  courtier  to  conduct  Vessantara  to  him.  The 
courtier  brought  Vessantara  on  a  golden  stool.  The  bird 
sat  on  his  father's  lap  and  played  with  his  father,  and  then 
went  and  sat  on  the  stool.  Then  the  king  in  the  midst  of 
the  crowd  of  people  questioned  him  as  to  the  duty  of 
a  king  and  spoke  the  first  stanza: 

'Tis  this  I  ask  Vessantara — clear  bird,  mayst  thou  be  blest- 

To  one  that's  fain  o'er  men  to  reign,  what  course  of  life  is  best  ? 

Vessantara,  without  answering  the  question  directly, 
reproved  the  king  for  his  carelessness  and  spoke  the 
second  stanza: 

Kamsa  my  sire,  who  Kiisi  won,  so  careless  long  ago, 

Urged  me  his  son,  though  full  of  zeal,  still  greater  zeal  to  shew. 

Rebuking  the  king  in  this  stanza  and  saying,  "Sire, 
a  king  ought  to  rule  his  kingdom  righteously,  abiding  in 
the  three  truths,"  and  telling  of  a  king's  duty  he  spoke 
these  stanzas : 

First  of  all  should  a  king  put  away  all  falsehood  and  anger  and  scorn : 
Let  him  do  what  a  king  has  to  do,  or  else  to  his  vow  be  forsworn. 

By  passion  and  sin  led  astray,  should  he  err  in  the  past,  it  is  plain 
He  will  live  to  repent  of  the  deed,  and  will  learn  not  to  do  it  again. 

When  a  prince  in  his  rule  groweth  slack,  untrue  to  his  name  and 

his  fame, 
Should  his  wealth  all  at  once  disappear,  of  that  prince  it  is  counted 

as  shame. 


'Tis  thus  that  Good  Fortune  and   Luck,  when   asked,  this   answer 

have  told, 
"I  delight  in  a  man  from  jealousy  free,  energetic  and  bold." 

Ill  luck,  ever  wrecking  good  fortune,  delighteth  in  men  of  ill  deeds, 
The  hard-hearted  creatures  in  whom  a  spirit  of  jealousy  breeds. 

To  all,  0  great  king,  be  a  friend,  so  that  all  may  thy  safety  insure, 
111  Luck  put  away,  but  to  Luck  that  is  good  be  a  dwelling  secure. 

The  man  that  is  lucky  and  bold,  0  thou  that  o'er  Kasi  dost  reign, 
"Will  destroy  root  and  branch  his  foes,  and  to  greatness  will  surely 

For  Sakka  himself,  0  king,  in  energy  wearieth  not; 

In  virtue  he  firmly  hath  stood,  through  energy  such  is  his  lot. 

Gandharvas,  the  fathers,  and  gods,  are  refreshed  by  such  zeal  of  a  king, 
And  spirits  appearing  stand  by,  of  his  vigour  and  energy  sing. 

Be  zealous  to  do  what  is  right,  nor,  however  reviled,  yield  to  sin, 
Be  earnest  in  efforts  for  good — no  sluggard  can  bliss  ever  win. 

Herein  is  the  text  of  thy  duty,  to  teach  thee  the  way  thou  shouldst  go : 
'Tis  enough  to  win  bliss  for  a  friend  or  to  work  grievous  ill  for  a  foe. 

Thus  did  the  bird  Vessantara  in  a  single  stanza  rebuke 
the  carelessness  of  the  king,  and  then  in  telling  the  duty 
of  a  king  in  eleven  stanzas  answered  his  question  with  all 
the  charm  of  a  Buddha.  The  hearts  of  the  multitude  were 
filled  with  wonder  and  amazement  and  innumerable  shouts 
of  applause  were  raised.  The  king  was  transported  with 
joy  and  addressing  his  courtiers  asked  them  what  was  to 
be  done  for  his  son,  for  having  spoken  thus.  "  He  should 
be  made  a  general  in  the  army,  Sire."  "Well,  I  give  him 
the  post  of  general,"  and  he  appointed  Vessantara  to 
the  vacant  post.  Thenceforth  placed  in  this  position  he 
carried  out  his  father's  wishes.  Here  ends  the  storv  of 


Vessantara's  question. 

Again  the  king  after  some  days,  just  as  before,  sent 
a  message  to  KundalinI,  and  on  the  seventh  day  he  paid 
her  a  visit  and  returning  home  again  he  seated  himself  in 
the  centre  of  a  pavilion  and  ordered  KundalinI  to  be 


brought  to  him,  and  when  she  was  seated  on  a  golden 
stool,  he  questioned  her  as  to  the  duty  of  a  king  and 
spoke  this  stanza: 

Kuiidalini,  of  kshatriya  birth,  couldst  thou  resolve  my  quest, 

To  one  that's  fain  o'er  men  to  reign,  what  course  of  life  is  best? 

When  the  king  thus  asked  her  as  to  the  duties  of  a 
king,  she  said,  "  I  suppose,  Sir,  you  are  putting  me  to  the 
test,  thinking  '  What  will  a  woman  be  able  to  tell  me  1 '  so 
I  will  tell  you,  putting  all  your  duty  as  a  king  into  just 
two  maxims,"  and  she  repeated  these  stanzas : 

The  matter,  my  friend,  is  set  forth  in  a  couple  of  maxims  quite  plain- 
To  keep  whatsoever  one  has,  and  whatever  one  ha.s  not  to  gain. 

Take  as  counsellors  men  that  are  wise,  thy  interests  clearly  to  see, 
Not  given  to  riot  and  waste,  from  gambling  and  drunkenness  free. 

Such   a   one   as   can   guard   thee  aright  and   thy  treasure  with  all 

proper  zeal, 
As   a  charioteer   guides    his    car,   he  with  skill  steers   the  realm's 

common  weal. 

Keep  ever  thy  folk  well  in  hand,  and  duly  take  stock  of  thy  pelf. 
Ne'er  trust  to  another  a  loan  or  deposit,  but  act  for  thyself. 

What  is  done  or  undone  to  thy  profit  and  loss  it  is  well  thou  shouldst 

Ever  blame  the  blame-worthy  and  favour  on  them  that  deserve  it 


Thou  thyself,  0  great  king,  shouldst  instruct  thy  people  in  every 

good  way, 
Lest  thy  realm  and  thy  substance  should  fall  to  unrighteous  officials 

a  prey. 

See  that  nothing  is  done  by  thyself  or  by  others  with  overmuch 

For  the  fool  that  so  acts  without  doubt  will  live  to  repent  of  the 


To  wrath  one  should  never  give  way,  nor  let  it  due  bounds  overflow; 
It  has  led  to  the  ruin  of  kings  and  the  proudest  of  houses  laid  low. 
Betray  none,  in  that  thou  art  lord,  to  aught  that  is  useless  and  vain, 
Nor  become  thou  to  women  and  men  the  cause  of  their  sorrow  and 


When  a  king  from  all  caution  is  free,  and  the  pleasures  of  sense 

are  his  aim, 
Should  his  riches  and  all  disappear,  to  that  king  it  is  counted  as 


Herein  is  a  text  of  thy  duty,  to  teach  thee  the  way  thou  shouldst  go, 
Be  an  adept  in  every  good  work,  to  excess  and  to  riot  a  foe, 
Study  virtue,  for  vice  ever  leads  to  a  state  full  of  suffering  and  woe. 

Thus  did  Kundalini  also  teach  the  king  his  duty  in 
eleven  stanzas.  The  king  was  delighted  and  addressing 
his  courtiers  asked  them,  saying,  "  What  is  to  be  given  to 
my  daughter  as  a  reward  for  her  having  spoken  thus?" 
"  The  office  of  treasurer,  Sire."  "  Well  then,  I  grant  her 
the  post  of  treasurer,"  and  he  appointed  Kundalini  to  the 
vacant  post.  Thenceforth  she  held  the  office  and  acted 
for  the  king.  Here  ends  the  story  of  the  question  of 

•     • 

Again  the  king  after  the  lapse  of  a  few  days,  just  as 
before,  sent  a  messenger  to  the  wise  Jambuka,  and  going- 
there  on  the  seventh  day  and  being  magnificently  enter- 
tained he  returned  home  and  in  the  same  manner  took 
his  seat  in  the  centre  of  a  pavilion.  A  courtier  placed 
the  wise  Jambuka  on  a  stool  bound  with  gold,  and  came 
bearing  the  stool  on  his  head.  The  wise  bird  sitting  on 
his  father's  lap  and  playing  with  him  at  length  took  his 
seat  on  the  golden  stool.  Then  the  king,  asking  him  a 
question,  spoke  this  stanza: 

We've  Questioned  both  thy  brother  owl,  and  also  fair  Kundalini; 
Now,  Jambuka,  do  thou  in  turn  the  highest  power  declare  to  me. 

Thus  did  the  king,  in  asking  a  question  of  the  Great 
Being,  not  ask  him  in  the  way  in  which  he  had  asked  the 
others,  but  asked  him  in  a  special  way.  Then  the  wise 
bird  said  to  him,  "  Well,  Sire,  listen  attentively,  and  I  will 
tell  you  all,"  and  like  a  man  placing  a  purse  containing 


a  thousand  pieces  of  money  into  an  outstretched  hand,  he 
began  his  exposition  of  a  king's  duty : 

Amidst  the  great  ones  of  the  earth  a  fivefold  power  we  see; 
Of  these  the  power  of  limbs  is,  sure,  the  last  in  its  degree, 
And  power  of  wealth,  0  mighty  lord,  the  next  is  said  to  be. 

The  power  of  counsel  third  in  rank  of  these,  0  king,  I  name; 
The  power  of  caste  without  a  doubt  is  reckoned  fourth  in  fame, 
And  all  of  these  a  man  that's  wise  most  certainly  will  claim. 

Of  all  these  powers  that  one  is  best,  as  power  of  wisdom  known, 
By  strength  of  this  a  man  is  wise  and  makes  success  his  own. 

Should  richest  realm  fall  to  the  lot  of  some  poor  stupid  wight, 
Another  will  by  violence  seize  it  in  his  despite. 

However  noble  be  the  prince,  whose  lot  it  is  to  rule, 
He  is  hard  put  to  live  at  all,  if  he  should  prove  a  fool. 

'Tis  wisdom  tests  reports  of  deeds  and  makes  men's  fame  to  grow, 
Who  is  with  wisdom  gifted  still  finds  pleasure  e'en  in  woe. 

None  that  are  heedless  in  their  ways  to  wisdom  can  attain, 
But  must  consult  the  wise  and  just,  or  ignorant  remain. 

Who  early  rising  shall  betimes  unweariedly  give  heed 
To  duty's  varied  calls,  in  life  is  certain  to  succeed. 

No  one  that's  bent  on  hurtful  things  or  acts  in  listless  mood 
In  aught  that  he  may  undertake  will  come  to  any  good. 

But  one  that  will  unweariedly  a  rightful  course  pursue, 
Is  sure  to  reach  perfection  in  whatever  he  may  do. 

To  safeguard  one's  store  is  to  gain  more  and  more, 
And  these  are  the  things  I  would  have  thee  to  mind ; 

For  the  fool  by  ill  deeds,  like  a  house  built  of  reeds, 
Collapses  and  leaves  rack  and  ruin  behind. 

Thus  did  the  Bodhisatta  in  all  these  points  sing  the 
praises  of  the  five  powers,  and  exalting  the  power  of 
wisdom,  like  to  one  striking  the  orb  of  the  moon  with  his 
words,  he  admonished  the  king  in  ten  stanzas : 

Unto  thy  parents,  warrior  king,  do  righteously;  and  so 

By  following  a  righteous  life  to  heaven  thou,  sire,  shalt  go.... 


After  uttering  ten  stanzas  about  the  way  of  righteous- 
ness, still  further  admonishing  the  king  he  spoke  the 
concluding  stanza: 

Herein  is  the  text  of  thy  duty,  to  teach  thee  the  way  thou  shouldst  go : 
Follow  wisdom  and  ever  be  happy,  the  Truth  in  its  fulness  to  know. 

Thus  did  the  Great  Being,  as  though  he  were  letting 
down  the  heavenly  Ganges,  teach  the  Law  with  all  the 
charm  of  a  Buddha.  And  the  multitude  paid  him  great 
honour  and  raised  innumerable  shouts  of  applause.  The 
king  was  delighted  and  addressing  his  councillors  asked, 
"  How  ought  my  son,  wise  Jambuka,  with  a  beak  like  the 
fresh  fruit  of  the  rose-apple,  to  be  rewarded  for  having 
spoken  thus?"  "With  the  post  of  commander-in-chief, 
Sire."  "  Then  I  offer  him  this  post,"  he  said,  and  appointed 
him  to  the  vacant  office,  and  thenceforth  in  the  position  of 
commander-in-chief  he  carried  out  the  orders  of  his  father. 
Great  honour  was  paid  to  the  three  birds,  and  all  three  of 
them  gave  instruction  in  temporal  and  spiritual  matters. 
The  king,  abiding  in  the  admonition  of  the  Great  Being, 
by  almsgiving  and  other  good  works  became  destined  to 
heaven.  The  councillors  after  performing  the  king's 
obsequies,  speaking  to  the  birds  said,  "My  lord,  Jambu, 
the  king  ordered  the  royal  umbrella  to  be  raised  over 
you."  The  Great  Being  said,  "I  have  no  need  of  the 
kingdom,  do  you  exercise  rule  with  all  vigilance,"  and 
after  establishing  the  people  in  the  moral  law,  he  said, 
"Execute  justice,"  and  he  had  righteous  judgment  in- 
scribed on  a  golden  plate  and  disappeared  in  the  forest. 
And  his  admonition  continued  in  force  forty  thousand 

See  On  Talking  Birds  in  Hindu  Fiction  ( Windisch  Festschrift,  p.  349),  by 
M  Bloomfield,  who  does  not  recognise  the  owl  as  a  talking  bird.  Cf.  the  talking 
parrot,  above,  pp.  74,  167;  the  "heron,"  p.  243,  is  probably  a  kind  of  sparrow 
(pujani).  The  goose,  p.  117,  belongs  rather  to  the  talking  animals  of  fable. 

F.  &T.  27 


Once  upon  a  time,  the  Magadha  king  reigned  in 
Rajagaha.  The  Bodhisatta  was  born  to  his  chief  queen 
and  on  his  naming-day  they  called  him  prince  Arindama. 
On  the  very  day  of  his  birth  a  son  was  also  born  to  the 
royal  chaplain,  and  to  him  they  gave  the  name  of  young 
Sonaka.  The  two  lads  grew  up  together  and  when  they 
were  of  age  they  were  exceedingly  handsome,  in  appear- 
ance not  to  be  distinguished  one  from  another,  and  they 
went  to  Takkasila  and,  after  being  trained  in  all  sciences, 
they  left  that  place  with  the  intention  of  learning  the 
practical  uses  of  arts  and  local  observances,  and  gradually 
in  the  course  of  their  wanderings  found  their  way  to 
Benares.  There  they  took  up  their  abode  in  the  royal 
park  and  next  day  entered  the  city.  That  very  day 
certain  men  being  minded  to  make  an  offering  of  food 
to  brahmins  provided  some  rice-porridge  and  arranged 
seats,  and  on  seeing  these  youths  approach  they  brought 
them  into  the  house  and  made  them  sit  upon  the  seats 
they  had  prepared.  On  the  seat  allotted  to  the  Bodhisatta 
a  white  cloth  was  spread,  on  that  assigned  to  Sonaka  a  red 
woollen  rug.  On  seeing  this  omen  Sonaka  at  once  under- 
stood that  this  day  his  dear  friend  Arindama  would  become 
king  in  Benares,  and  that  he  would  offer  him  the  post  of 
commander-in-chief.  After  they  had  finished  their  meal 
they  returned  together  to  the  park.  Now  it  was  the 
seventh  day  since  the  king  of  Benares  had  died  and  the 
royal  house  was  without  an  heir.  So  the  councillors  and 
the  rest  after  washing  themselves,  head  and  all,  assembled 
together  and  saying,  "  Thou  art  to  go  to  the  house  of  the 
man  that  is  worthy  to  be  king,"  they  started  the  festal  car. 
On  leaving  the  city  it  gradually  approached  the  park  and 


stopping  at  the  park  gate  it  stood  there,  ready  for  anyone 
to  mount  upon  it.  The  Bodhisatta  lay,  with  his  outer 
robe  wrapped  about  his  head,  on  the  royal  slab  of  stone, 
while  the  lad  Sonaka  sat  near  him.  On  hearing  the  sound 
of  musical  instruments  Sonaka  thought,  "  Here  comes  the 
festal  car  for  Arindama.  To-day  he  will  be  made  king  and 
he  will  offer  me  the  post  of  commander.  But  verily  I  have 
no  desire  for  rule :  when  he  is  gone  away,  I  will  leave  the 
world  and  become  an  ascetic,"  and  he  stood  on  one  side  in 
concealment.  The  chaplain  on  entering  the  park  saw  the 
Great  Being  lying  there  and  ordered  his  trumpets  to  be 
sounded.  The  Great  Being  woke  up  and  after  turning 
over  and  lying  for  a  while  he  rose  up  and  sat  cross- 
legged  on  the  stone  seat.  Then  the  chaplain  clasping  his 
arms  in  a  suppliant  attitude  cried,  "The  kingdom,  Sire, 
comes  to  you."  "Why,  is  there  no  heir  to  the  throne?" 
"Even  so,  Sire."  "Then  it  is  well,"  he  said.  So  they 
sprinkled  him  to  be  king  then  and  there.  And  mounting 
him  on  the  car  they  brought  him  with  a  vast  escort  into 
the  city.  After  a  rightwise  procession  round  the  city  he 
ascended  to  his  palace  and  in  the  greatness  of  his  glory  he 
forgot  all  about  young  Sonaka.  But  when  the  king  was 
gone,  Sonaka  returned  and  sat  on  the  stone  seat,  and  so 
it  was  that  a  withered  leaf  of  a  sal  tree  fell  from  its  stalk 
in  front  of  him,  and  on  seeing  it  he  cried,  "Even  as  this 
leaf,  so  will  my  body  fall  into  decay,"  and  acquiring  super- 
natural insight  by  reflecting  on  the  impermanence  of  all 
things  he  attained  to  the  state  of  a  pacceka  buddha,  and 
at  this  very  instant  his  characteristic  as  a  layman  vanished, 
and  the  marks  of  an  ascetic  became  visible,  and  making 
the  solemn  utterance,  "There  is  no  more  re-birth  for 
me,"  he  set  out  for  the  cave  of  Nandamula.  And  the 
Great  Being  after  the  lapse  of  forty  years  remembered 



Sonaka  and  said,  "  Where  in  the  world  can  Sonaka  be  ? " 
And  time  after  time  calling  him  to  mind  he  found  no  one 
to  tell  him  saying,  "  I  have  heard  of  him  or  I  have  seen 
him."  And  sitting  cross-legged  on  a  royal  throne  upon  a 
magnificent  dais,  surrounded  by  a  company  of  minstrels 
and  mime  dancers,  in  the  enjoyment  of  his  glory,  he  said, 
"  Whosoever  shall  hear  from  someone  that  Sonaka  dwells 
in  such  and  such  a  place  and  shall  repeat  it  to  me,  to  him 
I  promise  a  hundred  pieces  of  money,  but  whosoever  shall 
see  him  with  his  own  eyes  and  shall  tell  me,  to  him  I 
promise  a  thousand  pieces  of  money,"  and  giving  expres- 
sion to  this  inspired  utterance,  in  the  form  of  a  song,  he 
repeated  the  first  stanza : 

A  thousand  crowns  for  one  that  sees  my  friend  and  playmate  dear, 
A  hundred  lo!  I  give  if  one  of  Souaka  should  hear. 

Then  a  nautch  girl,  catching  it  up,  as  it  were,  from  his 
very  mouth,  sang  the  words,  and  then  another  and  another 
took  it  up  till  the  whole  harem,  thinking  it  was  a  favourite 
air  of  the  king's,  all  sang  it.  And  gradually  both  towns- 
people and  country-folk  sang  the  same  song  and  the  king 
too  constantly  sang  it.  At  the  end  of  fifty  years  the  king 
had  many  sons  and  daughters,  and  the  eldest  son  was 
called  prince  Dighavu.  At  this  time  the  pacceka  buddha 
Sonaka  thought,  "King  Arindaina  is  anxious  to  see  me. 
I  will  go  and  explain  to  him  the  misery  of  desires  and  the 
blessing  of  Renunciation,  and  will  shew  him  the  way  to 
become  an  ascetic.  And  by  his  supernatural  power  he 
conveyed  himself  thither  and  took  a  seat  in  the  park.  At 
that  moment  a  boy  seven  years  old,  wearing  his  hair  in 
five  knots,  was  sent  there  by  his  mother,  and  as  he  was 
gathering  sticks  in  the  park  garden  he  sang  over  ami  over 
again  this  song.  Sonaka  called  the  boy  to  him  and  asked 
him  saying,  "Why,  my  lad,  do  you  always  sing  the  same 


song  and  never  sing  anything  else?  Do  you  not  know 
any  other  song?"  "I  know  others,  holy  Sir,  but  this  is 
our  king's  favourite  song,  and  so  I  constantly  sing  it." 
"  Has  any  one  been  found  to  sing  a  refrain  to  this  song  ? " 
"No,  Sir."  "I  will  teach  you  one  and  then  you  can  go 
and  sing  the  refrain  before  the  king."  "  Yes,  Sir."  So  he 
taught  him  the  refrain  "  The  thousand  give  "  and  the  rest 
of  it,  and  when  the  boy  had  mastered  it,  he  sent  him  off, 
saying,  "  Go,  my  lad,  and  sing  this  refrain  before  the  king 
and  he  will  grant  you  great  power.  What  have  you  to  do 
with  gathering  sticks?  Be  off  with  you  as  quick  as  you 
can."  "  Very  well,"  said  the  boy,  and  having  mastered  the 
refrain  and  saluted  Sonaka  he  said,  "Holy  Sir,  until  I 
bring  the  king,  do  you  remain  here."  With  these  words 
he  went  off  as  fast  as  he  could  to  his  mother  and  said  to 
her,  "  Dear  mother,  give  me  a  bath  and  dress  me  in  my 
best  clothes:  to-day  will  I  free  you  from  your  poverty." 
And  when  he  had  taken  a  bath  and  was  smartly  dressed, 
he  went  to  the  door  of  the  palace  and  said,  "Porter,  go 
and  tell  the  king  and  say,  'A  certain  lad  has  come  and 
even  now  stands  at  the  door,  prepared  to  sing  a  song  with 
you.' '  So  the  porter  made  haste  and  told  the  king.  The 
king  summoned  him  to  his  presence  and  said,  "Friend, 
would  you  sing  a  song  with  me?"  "Yes,  Sire."  "Then 
sing  it."  "My  lord,  I  will  not  sing  it  here,  but  have  a 
drum  beaten  through  the  city  and  bid  the  people  assemble 
together.  I  will  sing  before  the  people."  The  king  ordered 
this  to  be  done,  and,  taking  his  seat  in  the  middle  of 
a  couch  under  a  magnificent  pavilion  and  assigning  a 
suitable  seat  to  the  boy,  he  said,  "Now  then  sing  your 
song."  "  Sire,"  he  said,  "  you  sing  first  and  then  I  will  sing 
a  refrain  to  it."  Then  the  king  sang  first,  repeating  this 
stanza : 


A  thousand  crowns  for  one  that  sees  my  friend  and  playmate  dear, 
A  hundred  lo!   I  give  if  one  of  Sonaka  should  hear. 

(Then  the  Master,  to  make  it  clear  that  the  boy  with 
his  hair  dressed  in  five  knots  sang  a  refrain  to  the  song 
begun  by  the  king,  in  his  state  as  perfect  Buddha 
repeated  two  lines:) 

Then  up  and  spake  that  little  boy — five  tang-led  locks  he  wore— 
"  The  thousand  give  to  me  who  saw,  who  heard  a  hundred  more : 
I'll  tell  thee  news  of  Sonaka,  thy  playfellow-  of  yore." 

The  verses  that  follow  are  to  be  taken  in  their  obvious 
connexion : 

Pray  in  what  country,  realm,  or  town  hast  thou  a-wandering  been, 
And  where  was  Sonaka,  my  friend,  I  prithee  tell  me,  seen? 

Within  this  realm,  in  thine  own  park  is  many  a  big  sal  tree 
With  leaves  dark  green  and  stems  so  straight,  a  pleasant  sight  to 

see ; 

Their  branches  densely  interlaced,  cloud-like,  to  heaven  they  rise, 

And  at  their  foot  lo!   Sonaka  in  meditation  lies, 

Filled  with  the  Arhat's  holy  calm,  when  human  passion  dies. 

The  king  then  started  in  full  force  and  levelling  the  road 
He  made  his  way  straight  to  the  place  of  Sonaka's  abode. 

There  wandering  midst  an  ample  grove  within  his  pleasure  ground, 
All  passionless,  in  saintly  bliss,  his  friend  at  rest  he  found. 

Without  saluting  him  he  sat  on  one  side  and,  by  reason 
of  his  being  himself  given  up  to  evil  passion,  he  fancied  he 
was  some  poor  wretch  and  addressed  him  in  this  stanza : 

His  parents  dead,  with  shaven  head,  clad  in  monk's  robe  I  see 
A  wretched  Brother  in  a  trance,  stretched  here  beneath  this  tree. 

On  hearing  this  said  Sonaka,  "  He  is  no  wretched  wight 
Who  in  his  every  action,  Sire,  has  aye  attained  to  right. 

Nay  rather  wretched  those  who  right  neglect  and  practise  ill, 
For  evil  doer  evil  doom  is  destined  to  fulfil." 

Thus  did  he  rebuke  the  Bodhisatta,  and  he  pretending 
not  to  know  he  was  being  rebuked,  talking  in  a  friendly 


way  with  him,  declared  his  name  and  family  and  spoke 
this  stanza: 

As  king  of  Kasi  I  am  known,  Ariudama  niy  name, 

Since  coming  here,  Sir,  hast  thon  met  with  aught  deserving  blame  ? 

Then  the  pacceka  bucldha  said,  "Not  merely  while 
dwelling  here  but  nowhere  else  have  I  met  with  any 
discomfort,"  and  he  began  to  tell  in  verse  the  blessings 
of  the  monk : 

'Mougst  blessings  of  poor  homeless  monk  I  ever  count  it  one, 

In  store-room  jar  or  granary  he  has  hoarded  none, 

But  only  craves  what  others  leave  and  lives  content  thereon. 

The  next  of  all  his  blessings  this  is  one  deserving  praise, 

He  free  from  blame  enjoys  his  food  and  no  one  him  gainsays. 

Third  blessing  of  the  monk  I  hold  is  this,  that  all  his  days 
He  eats  his  food,  desires  extinct,  and  no  one  him  gainsays. 

The  fourth  of  all  his  blessings  is  that  wheresoe'er  he  goes, 

He  wanders  free  throughout  the  realm  and  no  Attachment  knows. 

Fifth  blessing  this  that  should  the  town,  wherever  he  may  be, 
Perish  in  flames,  he  suffers  not,  for  nought  to  burn  has  he. 

The  sixth  of  all  the  blessings  he  may  reckon  to  his  lot, 
That  if  the  realm  should  be  despoiled,  he  suffers  not  a  jot. 

The  seventh  of  the  blessings  that  to  poverty  he  owes, 

Though  robbers  should  his  path  beset,  and  many  dangerous  foes, 

With  bowl  and  robe  the  holy  man  ever  in  safety  goes. 

Last  blessing  this  that  wheresoe'er  our  wanderer  may  fare, 
Homeless  and  poor,  he  journeys  on  without  regret  or  care. 

Thus  did  the  pacceka  buddha  Sonaka  tell  of  the  eight 
blessings  of  the  monk,  and  even  beyond  this  he  could 
have  told  of  a  hundred,  nav  a  thousand  immeasurable 


blessings,  but  the  king  being  given  up  to  sensual  desires 
cut  short  his  speech,  saying,  "  I  have  no  need  of  monkish 
blessings,"  and  to  make  it  clear  how  devoted  he  was  to 
evil  passions  he  said : 


Thy  many  blessings  thou  mayst  praise  but  what  am  I  to  do 
Who  worldly  pleasures,  Sonaka,  so  greedily  pursue? 

Dear  are  all  human  joys  to  me  and  heavenly  joys  as  well, 
But  how  to  gain  both  worlds  at  once,  to  me,  I  prithee,  tell. 

Then  the  pacceka  buddha  answered  him  : 

Who  greedily  on  pleasure  bent  their  worldly  lusts  would  sate, 
Work  wickedness  awhile,  to  be  re-born  in  woeful  state. 

But  they  who  leave  desire  behind  through  life  all  fearless  go, 
And  reaching  concentration  pure  are  ne'er  re-born  to  woe. 

Here  tell  I  thee  a  parable;  Arindama,  give  heed, 

Some  that  are  wise  through  parable  my  meaning  best  may  read. 

See!  borne  along  on  Ganges'  flooded  tide  a  carcase  vast, 
A  foolish  crow  thought  to  himself  as  it  was  floating  past, 

"Oh  what  a  carriage  I  have  found  and  goodly  store  of  food, 
Here  will  I  stay  both  night  and  day,  enjoying  blissful  mood." 

So  eats  he  flesh  of  elephant  and  drinks  from  Granges'  stream, 
And  budging  not  sees  grove  and  shrine  pass  by  him  in  a  dream. 
Thus  heedless  and  on  carrion  vile  so  all  intent  was  he, 
The  Ganges  swept  him  headlong  to  the  perils  of  the  sea. 

But  when  with  food  exhausted  he,  poor  bird,  essayed  a  flight, 
Nor  east  nor  west  nor  south  nor  north  was  any  land  in  sight. 

Far  out  at  sea,  so  weak  was  he,  long  ere  he  reached  the  shore, 
Midst  countless  perils  of  the  deep  he  fel